Works
Benedict, Clare. A Resemblance: And Other Stories. New York: G.P. Putnam's Sons, 1909.
Benedict, Clare. XII. Leipzig: Tauchnitz, 1921.
Benedict, Clare. European Backgrounds. Edinburgh: Andrew Eliot, 1912.
Benedict, Clare. The little lost Prince. Edinburgh: Andrew Eliot, 1912.
Benedict, Clare. The Divine Spark. Privately printed, 1913.
Benedict, Clare. Six Months, March to August, 1914. Cooperstown NY: Arthur H. Crist Co. 1914.
Benedict, Clare. Five Generations: 1785-1923 (1930), vol. 1-3. Voices Out of the Past, Constance Fenimore Woolson, The Benedicts Abroad. London: Ellis, 1930.
Benedict, Clare, ed. The In Memoriam Library. Selected and Edited by Clare Benedict. Lucerne 1960.
Read more about this topic: Clare Benedict
Famous quotes containing the word works:
“And when discipline is concerned, the parent who has to make it to the end of an eighteen-hour day—who works at a job and then takes on a second shift with the kids every night—is much more likely to adopt the survivor’s motto: “If it works, I’ll use it.” From this perspective, dads who are even slightly less involved and emphasize firm limits or character- building might as well be talking a foreign language. They just don’t get it.”
—Ron Taffel (20th century)
“Artists, whatever their medium, make selections from the abounding materials of life, and organize these selections into works that are under the control of the artist.... In relation to the inclusiveness and literally endless intricacy of life, art is arbitrary, symbolic and abstracted. That is its value and the source of its own kind of order and coherence.”
—Jane Jacobs (b. 1916)
“We all agree now—by “we” I mean intelligent people under sixty—that a work of art is like a rose. A rose is not beautiful because it is like something else. Neither is a work of art. Roses and works of art are beautiful in themselves. Unluckily, the matter does not end there: a rose is the visible result of an infinitude of complicated goings on in the bosom of the earth and in the air above, and similarly a work of art is the product of strange activities in the human mind.”
—Clive Bell (1881–1962)