Spring has many American faces. There are cities where it will come and go in a day and counties where it hangs around and never quite gets there. Summer is drawn blinds in Louisiana, long winds in Wyoming, shade of… — Archibald MacLeish Copy Share Image
Autumn is the American season. In Europe the leaves turn yellow or brown, and fall. Here they take fire on the trees and hang there flaming. We think this frost-fire is a portent somehow: a promise that the continent has… — Archibald MacLeish Copy Share Image
Never in all their history have men been able truly to conceive of the world as one: a single sphere, a globe, having the… — Archibald MacLeish Copy Share Image
How shall freedom be defended? By arms when it is attacked by arms, by truth when it is attacked by lies, by faith when… — Archibald MacLeish Copy Share Image
Around, around the sun we go: The moon goes round the earth. We do not die of death: We die of vertigo. — Archibald MacLeish Copy Share Image
What you really have to know is one: yourself. And the only way you can know that one is in the mirror of the… — Archibald MacLeish Copy Share Image
Poets... are literal-minded men who will squeeze a word till it hurts. — Archibald MacLeish Copy Share Image
“American foreign policy was a mirror image of Russian foreign policy: whatever the Russians did, we did in reverse. American domestic policies were conducted… — Archibald MacLeish Copy Share Image
To separate journalism and poetry, therefore-history and poetry-to set them up at opposite ends of the world of discourse, is to separate seeing from… — Archibald MacLeish Copy Share Image
You burned the city of London in our houses and we felt the flames. — Archibald MacLeish Copy Share Image
The infantile cowardice of our time which demands an external pattern, a nonhuman authority. — Archibald MacLeish Copy Share Image
Races didn't bother the Americans. They were something a lot better than any race. They were a People. They were the first self-constituted, self-declared,… — Archibald MacLeish Copy Share Image
Young poets are advised by their elders to avoid the practice of journalism as they would wet socks and gin before breakfast. — Archibald MacLeish Copy Share Image
There are those, I know, who will reply that the liberation of humanity, the freedom of man and mind, is nothing but a dream.… — Archibald MacLeish Copy Share Image
