Everything is complicated; if that were not so, life and poetry and everything else would be a bore.
Wallace StevensRead
At the sight of blackbirds Flying in a green light, Even the bawds of euphony Would cry out sharply.
Interpretation
The quote reflects the beauty and complexity found in nature's contrasts and the emotional responses they provoke.
Wallace Stevens' quote evokes a vivid image of blackbirds flying through a bright green light, symbolizing the interplay of different elements in nature. The phrase 'bawds of euphony' suggests that even those who usually celebrate harmony and beauty would react with surprise or intensity to such a striking scene, highlighting the profound impact that nature's contrasts can have on our emotions and perceptions.
In practice
This quote can be used in a nature photography presentation to emphasize the beauty of contrasting elements.
Everything is complicated; if that were not so, life and poetry and everything else would be a bore.
Most modern reproducers of life, even including the camera, really repudiate it. We gulp down evil, choke at good.
After one has abandoned a belief in God, poetry is that essence which takes its place as life's redemption.
Why should she give her bounty to the dead? What is divinity if it can come Only in silent shadows and in dreams?
LIGHT FROM WITHIN my friend, cancer got you damn it: you had it beat for seven years at least. how did it come back? Why all that pain. again. and you, such a fighter you fought me over and over with tears and words and promises. you fought for me with honesty and a light so bright it hurts my heart. sweet lorna. at peace now finally no more battles, just light from within a flickering candle in the dark burns with you.
Unfortunately there is nothing more inane than an Easter carol. It is a religious perversion of the activity of Spring in our blood.
If there is some good in me, it is because I was born in the subtle atmosphere of your country of Arezzo. Along with the milk of my nurse I received the knack of handling chisel and hammer, with which I make my figures.
Beauty, midnight, vision dies: Let the winds of dawn that blow Softly round your dreaming head Such a day of welcome show Eye and knocking heart may bless, Find our mortal world enough; Noons of dryness find you fed By the involuntary powers, Nights of insult let you pass Watched by every human love.
When I'm making stuff, the thing that excites me most is not the result, but the process and trying to do something I've never done before.
This making studies and then taking them home to use them is only half right. You get composition, but you lose freshness; you miss the subtle and, to the artist, the finer characteristics of the scene itself.
100 years of Indian cinema has happened. Anything you do, feels like it has already been done. The struggle is to find a new and unique idea.
The most watched programme on the BBC, after the news, is probably 'Doctor Who.' What has happened is that science fiction has been subsumed into modern literature. There are grandparents out there who speak Klingon, who are quite capable of holding down a job. No one would think twice now about a parallel universe.
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