Quote

One must have a mind of winter To regard the frost and the boughs Of the pine-trees crusted with snow

Wallace Stevens

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Wallace Stevens
Age: 75 †
Born: 1879
Born: October 2
Died: 1955
Died: August 2
Journalist
Lawyer
Playwright
Poet
Poet Lawyer
Writer
Frost
Trees
Snow
Winter
Regard
Tree
Crusted
Must
Boughs
Mind
Pine

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Life is an affair of people not of places. But for me, life is an affair of places and that is the trouble.
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People ought to like poetry the way a child likes snow & they would if poets wrote it.
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Success as a result of industry is a peasant's ideal.
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The old brown hen and the old blue sky, Between the two we live and die The broken cartwheel on the hill.
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To lose sensibility, to see what one sees, As if sight had not its own miraculous thrift, To hear only what one hears, one meaning alone, As if the paradise of meaning ceased To be paradise, it is this to be destitute.
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An old argument with me is that the true religious force in the world is not the church, but the world itself: the mysterious callings of Nature and our responses.
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At the sight of blackbirds Flying in a green light, Even the bawds of euphony Would cry out sharply.
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The mind can never be satisfied.
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The imagination is man's power over nature.
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The poet makes silk dresses out of worms.
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It is the sea that whitens the roof. The sea drifts through the winter air. It is the sea that the north wind makes. The sea is in the falling snow.
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The wind, Tempestuous clarion, with heavy cry, Came bluntly thundering, more terrible Than the revenge of music on bassoons.
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The mind is the terriblest force in the world, father, Because, in chief, it, only, can defend Against itself. At its mercy, we depend Upon it.
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It may be that the ignorant man, alone, Has any chance to mate his life with life That is the sensual, pearly spouse, the life That is fluent in even the wintriest bronze.
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God and the imagination are one.
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The chrysanthemums' astringent fragrance comes Each year to disguise the clanking mechanism Of machine within machine within machine.
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It was evening all afternoon. It was snowing And it was going to snow. The blackbird sat In the cedar-limbs.
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I can't make head or tail of Life. Love is a fine thing, Art is a fine thing, Nature is a fine thing but the average human mind and spirit are confusing beyond measure. Sometimes I think that all our learning is the little learning of the maxim. To laugh at a Roman awe-stricken in a sacred grove is to laugh at something today.
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To regard the imagination as metaphysics is to think of it as part of life, and to think of it as part of life is to realize the extent of artifice. We live in the mind.
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Realism is a corruption of reality.
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