Why should she give her bounty to the dead? What is divinity if it can come Only in silent shadows and in… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
If the hero is not a person, the emblem Of him, even if Xenophon, seems To stand taller than a person stands,… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
Most poets who have little or nothing to say are concerned primarily with the way in which they say it ... if… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
There's no such thing as life; or if there is, It is faster than the weather, faster than Any character. It is… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
If ever the search for a tranquil belief should end, The future might stop emerging out of the past, Out of what… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
People ought to like poetry the way a child likes snow & they would if poets wrote it. — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
So, too, if, to our surprise, we should meet one of these morons whose remarks are so conspicuous a part of the… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
To lose sensibility, to see what one sees, As if sight had not its own miraculous thrift, To hear only what one… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
Poet, patting more nonsense foamed From the sea, conceive for thecourts Of these academies, the diviner health Disclosed in common forms. — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
The way through the world is more difficult to find than the way beyond it. — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
The magnificent cause of being, The imagination, the one reality In this imagined world — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
Music falls on the silence like a sense / A passion that we feel, not understand. — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
The life of the city never lets you go, nor do you ever want it to. — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
After a lustre of the moon, we say We have not the need of any paradise, We have not the need of any seducing… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
“We live in an old chaos of the sun, Or old dependency of day and night, Or island solitude, unsponsored, free, Of that wide… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
“Lunar Paraphrase" The moon is the mother of pathos and pity. When, at the wearier end of November, Her old light moves along the… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
“The stars are putting on their glittering belts, They throw around their shoulders cloaks that flash Like a great shadow's last embellishment” — wallace stevens Copy Share Image
Unfortunately there is nothing more inane than an Easter carol. It is a religious perversion of the activity of Spring in our blood. — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
