“One would say, to see all these snow-flakes fall, that there was a plague of white butterflies in heaven.”

“No snow flake ever falls in the wrong place”

“All Heaven and EarthFlowered white obliterate...Snow...unceasing snow”

“Snow not falling but flying sidewise, and sudden, not signaled by the slow curdling of clouds all day and a flake or two drifting downward, but rushing forward all at once as though sent for. (The blizzard of '36 had looked like that.) And filling up the world's concavities, pillowing up in the gloaming, making night light with its whiteness, and then falling still in every one's dreams, falling for pages and pages... ("Novelty")”

“The falling flakes were random and without purpose; the snow was drunker than she was.”

“Slowly, quietly, like snow-flakes—like the small flakes that come when it is going to snow all night—little flakes of me, my impressions, my selections, are settling down on the image of her. The real shape wil be quite hidden in the end.”