The life of the city never lets you go, nor do you ever want it to. — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
It has to be living, to learn the speech of the place, It has to face the man of the time. — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
The genuine artist is never 'true to life.' He sees what is real, but not as we are normally aware of it.… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
What is there in life except one's ideas, Good air, good friend, what is there in life? — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
Most modern reproducers of life, even including the camera, really repudiate it. We gulp down evil, choke at good. — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
The subject matter... is not that collection of solid, static objects extended in space but the life that is lived in the… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
“Weight him, weight, weight him with the sleepiness of the moon. It was only a glass because he looked in it. It… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
Above the forest of the parakeets, A parakeet of parakeets prevails, A pip of life amid a mort of tails. — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
To regard the imagination as metaphysics is to think of it as part of life, and to think of it as part… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
The philosopher proves that the philosopher exists. The poet merely enjoys existence. — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
The old brown hen and the old blue sky, Between the two we live and die The broken cartwheel on the hill. — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
In European thought in general, as contrasted with American, vigor, life and originality have a kind of easy, professional utterance. American --… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
It gives a man character as a poet to have a daily contact with a job. I doubt whether I've lost a… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
“The subject matter. . . is not that collection of solid, static objects extended in space but the life that is lived… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
Life is an affair of people not of places. But for me, life is an affair of places and that is the… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
It may be that the ignorant man, alone, Has any chance to mate his life with life That is the sensual, pearly… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
What our eyes behold may well be the text of life but one's meditations on the text and the disclosures of these… — 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
After one has abandoned a belief in God, poetry is that essence which takes its place as life's redemption. — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
Everything possessed the power to transform itself, or else, and what meant more, to be transformed. — 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
