It is never the thing but the version of the thing: The fragrance of the woman not her self, Her self in… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
Poetry is poetry, and one's objective as a poet is to achieve poetry precisely as one's objective in music is to achieve… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
People should like poetry the way a child likes snow, and they would if poets wrote it. — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
The philosopher proves that the philosopher exists. The poet merely enjoys existence. — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
The poet's function is to make his imagination . . . become the light in the mind of others. His role, in… — 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
Perhaps there is a degree of perception at which what is real and what is imagines are one: a state of clairvoyant… — 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
You know that the nucleus of a time is not The poet but the poem, the growth of the mind Of the… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
The poet represents the mind in the act of defending us against itself. — 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
The whole race is a poet that writes down / The eccentric propositions of its fate. — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
To a large extent, the problems of poets are the problems of painters, and poets must often turn to the literature of… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
Life consists Of propositions about life. The human Revery is a solitude in which We compose these propositions, torn by dreams, By… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
The people in the world, and the objects in it, and the world as a whole, are not absolute things, but on… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
“Poetry is a finikin thing of air That lives uncertainly and not for long Yet radiantly beyond much lustier blurs.” — 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
