Joseph Wood Krutch - Works

Works

  • Edgar Allan Poe: A Study in Genius (1926)
  • The Modern Temper (1929)
  • Experience and Art: Some Aspects of the Esthetics of Literature (1932)
  • Samuel Johnson (1944)
  • Henry David Thoreau (1948)
  • The Twelve Seasons (1949)
  • The Desert Year (1951)
  • The Best of Two Worlds (1953)
  • The Measure of Man (1954)
  • The Voice of the Desert (1954)
  • The Great Chain of Life (1956)
  • The Grand Canyon: Today and All Its Yesterdays (1957)
  • "The sportsman or the predator? A damnable pleasure" The Saturday Review (17 August 1957): 8-10, 39-40. Concerning "killing for sport."
  • Human Nature and the Human Condition (1959)
  • The Forgotten Peninsula (1961)
  • The World of Animals; A treasury of lore and literature by great writers and naturalists from the 5th century B.C. to the present (1961)
  • More Lives Than One (1962)
  • And Even If You Do; Essays on Man, Manners and Machines (1967)
  • The Scarlet Letter Rap (2011)
  • The Best Nature Writing of Joseph Wood Krutch (anthology, University of Utah Press, 1995; ISBN 0-87480-480-9)

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Famous quotes containing the word works:

    “No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.”
    —Bible: New Testament, Matthew 5:15,16.

    “In the works of man, everything is as poor as its author; vision is confined, means are limited, scope is restricted, movements are labored, and results are humdrum.”
    —Joseph De Maistre (1753–1821)

    “The slightest living thing answers a deeper need than all the works of man because it is transitory. It has an evanescence of life, or growth, or change: it passes, as we do, from one stage to the another, from darkness to darkness, into a distance where we, too, vanish out of sight. A work of art is static; and its value and its weakness lie in being so: but the tuft of grass and the clouds above it belong to our own travelling brotherhood.”
    —Freya Stark (b. 1893–1993)