Yvor Winters

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Happiness is a matter of one's most ordinary everyday mode of consciousness being busy and lively and unconcerned with self. To be damned is for one's ordinary everyday mode of consciousness to be unremitting agonizing preoccupation with self.
Iris Murdoch
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The land is numb.
It stands beneath the feet, and one may come
Walking securely, till the sea extends
Its limber margin, and precision ends.

Arthur Yvor Winters (October 17, 1900 - January 26, 1968) was an American poet and literary critic.

Sourced

  • By practice and conviction formed,
    With ancient stubbornness ingrained,
    Although her body clung and swarmed,
    My own identity remained.
    • Sir Gawaine and the Green Knight (1988)
  • And you are here beside me, small,
    Contained and fragile, and intent
    On things that I but half recall-
  • The rain of matter upon sense
    Destroys me momently. The score:
    There comes what will come.
    • At the San Francisco Airport (1976)
  • Metal, intrinsic value, deep and dense,
    Preanimate, inimitable, still,
    Real, but an evil with no human sense,
    Dispersed the mind to concentrate the will.
  • What calm catastrophe will yet assuage
    This final drouth of penitential tears?
    • John Sutter (1976)
  • The land is numb.
    It stands beneath the feet, and one may come
    Walking securely, till the sea extends
    Its limber margin, and precision ends.
    • The Slow Pacific Swell (1976)

External links

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