The whole race is a poet that writes down / The eccentric propositions of its fate. — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
The poet represents the mind in the act of defending us against itself. — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
After the final no there comes a yes And on that yes the future world depends. — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
“... unreal things have a reality of their own, in poetry as elsewhere.” — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
At evening casual flocks of pigeons make Ambiguous undulations as they sink Downward to darkness, on extended wings. — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
The philosopher proves that the philosopher exists. The poet merely enjoys existence. — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
If poetry should address itself to the same needs and aspirations, the same hopes and fears, to which the Bible addresses itself,… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
Everything is complicated; if that were not so, life and poetry and everything else would be a bore. — 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
The mind is the great poem ofwinter, the man, Who, to find what will suffice, Destroys romantic tenements Of rose and ice… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
“From this the poem springs: that we live in a place That is not our own and, much more, not ourselves And… — 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
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
Most people read poetry listening for echoes because the echoes are familiar to them. They wade through it the way a boy… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
Soldier, there is a war between the mind And sky, between thought and day and night. It is For that the poet… — 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
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
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
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
“ The House Was Quiet and the World Was Calm The house was quiet and the world was calm. The reader became… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
“The Planet On The Table Ariel was glad he had written his poems. They were of a remembered time Or of something… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
“The Plot Against The Giant First Girl When this yokel comes maundering, Whetting his hacker, I shall run before him, Diffusing the… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
“Poetry Is a Destructive Force" That's what misery is, Nothing to have at heart. It is to have or nothing. It is… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
“The Poem That Took The Place Of A Mountain There it was, word for word, The poem that took the place of… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
“…the imagination gives to everything that it touches a peculiarity, and it seems to me that the peculiarity of the imagination is… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
It is easy to suppose that few people realize on that occasion, which comes to all of us, when we look at… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
“THE POEMS OF OUR CLIMATE I Clear water in a brilliant bowl, Pink and white carnations. The light In the room more… — 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
