People ought to like poetry the way a child likes snow & they would if poets wrote it. — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
The reading of a poem should be an experience. Its writing must be all the more so. — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
A pear should come to the table popped with juice, Ripened in warmth and served in warmth. On terms Like these, autumn… — 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
One ought not to hoard culture. It should be adapted and infused into society as a leaven. Liberality of culture does not… — 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
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 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
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
The essential fault of surrealism is that it invents without discovering. To make a clam play an accordion is to invent not… — 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
The way through the world is more difficult to find than the way beyond it. — Wallace Stevens Copy Share
The magnificent cause of being, The imagination, the one reality In this imagined world — Wallace Stevens Copy Share
Music falls on the silence like a sense / A passion that we feel, not understand. — Wallace Stevens Copy Share
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
“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
“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
“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
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
A diary is more or less the work of a man of clay whose hands are clumsy and in whose eyes there is no… — Wallace Stevens Copy Share
