Literary notes about Creation (AI summary)
In literature, the word "creation" is employed with a rich variety of meanings, ranging from a description of the divine origin of the cosmos to a metaphor for human ingenuity. Some works depict it as the ultimate act of a supreme force ordering the universe—such as the formation of time and celestial bodies [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]—while others extend its meaning to the realm of artistic and linguistic invention, celebrating the human capacity to bring forth new ideas and expressions [6], [7]. Moreover, creators often use the term to evoke personal and emotional responses, whether it be the longing to erase painful memories or the spontaneous accident of forming something new in one’s life [8], [9]. This multifaceted deployment of "creation" enriches literary narratives by linking cosmic order with the creative impulse inherent in humanity.
- Such was the mind and thought of God in the creation of time.
— from Timaeus by Plato - For in those days shall be such tribulations as were not from the beginning of the creation which God created until now: neither shall be.
— from The Bible, Douay-Rheims, Complete - Wherefore also God in the beginning of creation made the body of the universe to consist of fire and earth.
— from Timaeus by Plato - The world was made in the form of a globe, and all the material elements were exhausted in the work of creation.
— from Timaeus by Plato - But from the beginning of the creation, God made them male and female.
— from The Bible, Douay-Rheims, Complete - The alphabet is general property, and everyone has the right to use it for the creation of a word forming an appellative sound.
— from The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, 1725-1798. Complete by Giacomo Casanova - My brother at one time would spend days at his piano engrossed in the creation of new tunes.
— from My Reminiscences by Rabindranath Tagore - would that he could be blotted out of creation, and out of my memory!’
— from Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë - He goes back, weary of the creation he has piled up to hide him from himself, an old dog licking an old sore.
— from Ulysses by James Joyce
