Wallace Stevens Quotes - Page 7

Quotes about:

• The magnificent cause of being,
  The imagination, the one reality
  In this imagined world.

  Wallace Stevens

  Reality, Imagination, World

  Wallace Stevens (2012). “The Emperor of Ice-Cream and Other Poems”, p.66, Courier Corporation

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• It is the sun that shares our works.
  The moon shares nothing. It is a sea.

  Wallace Stevens

  Moon, Sea, Sun

  Wallace Stevens (2011). “The Collected Poems of Wallace Stevens”, p.168, Vintage

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• My tribute to mystical, magical trees that the Cherokee called "standing people. . . ."

  Wallace Stevens

  People, Tree, Magic

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• Two things of opposite natures seem to depend / One on another, as Logos depends / On Eros, day on night, the imagined On the real. / This is the origin of change.

  Wallace Stevens

  Real, Night, Opposites

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• A poem need not have a meaning and like most things in nature often does not have.

  Wallace Stevens

  Writing, Doe, Needs

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• At the sight of blackbirds Flying in a green light, Even the bawds of euphony Would cry out sharply.

  Wallace Stevens

  Light, Sight, Bird

  Wallace Stevens, John N. Serio, Robert Gantt Steele (2004). “Wallace Stevens”, p.16, Sterling Publishing Company, Inc.

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• ...after a night spent writing poetry, one is almost happy to hear the milkman at the door.

  Wallace Stevens

  Writing, Night, Doors

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• The fire burns as the novel taught it how.

  Wallace Stevens

  Fire, Taught, Novel

  Wallace Stevens, Jos e Rodr iguez Feo, Beverly Coyle, Alan Filreis (1986). “Secretaries of the Moon: The Letters of Wallace Stevens & José Rodríguez Feo”, p.19, Durham [N.C.] : Duke University Press

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• One's ignorance is one's chief asset.

  Wallace Stevens

  Inspirational, Ignorance, Assets

  Wallace Stevens (2011). “Opus Posthumous: Poems, Plays, Prose”, p.258, Vintage

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• Out of this same light, out of the central mind, We make a dwelling in the evening air, In which being there together is enough.

  Wallace Stevens

  Dwelling, Light, Air

  Wallace Stevens (2011). “The Palm at the End of the Mind: Selected Poems and a Play”, p.452, Vintage

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• The tomb in Palestine
  Is not the porch of spirits lingering.
  It is the grave of Jesus, where he lay.

  Wallace Stevens

  Jesus, Spirit, Graves

  Wallace Stevens (2012). “The Emperor of Ice-Cream and Other Poems”, p.11, Courier Corporation

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• The yellow glistens. It glistens with various yellows, Citrons, oranges and greens Flowering over the skin.

  Wallace Stevens

  Yellow, Orange, Skins

  Wallace Stevens (2011). “The Palm at the End of the Mind: Selected Poems and a Play”, p.219, Vintage

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• It is time that beats in the breast and it is time
  That batters against the mind, silent and proud,
  The mind that knows it is destroyed by time.

  Wallace Stevens

  Time, Mind, Proud

  Wallace Stevens (2011). “The Palm at the End of the Mind: Selected Poems and a Play”, p.339, Vintage

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• What is one man among so many men?
  What are so many men in such a world?
  Can one man think one thing and think it long?
  Can one man be one thing and be it long?

  Wallace Stevens

  Men, Thinking, Long

  Wallace Stevens (2011). “The Collected Poems of Wallace Stevens”, p.41, Vintage

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• I can't make head or tail of Life. Love is a fine thing, Art is a fine thing, Nature is a fine thing; but the average human mind and spirit are confusing beyond measure. Sometimes I think that all our learning is the little learning of the maxim. To laugh at a Roman awe-stricken in a sacred grove is to laugh at something today.

  Wallace Stevens

  Love, Art, Thinking

  Wallace Stevens, Holly Stevens (1966). “Letters of Wallace Stevens”, p.86, Univ of California Press

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• Tinsel in February, tinsel in August.
  There are things in a man besides his reason.

  Wallace Stevens

  Men, August, February

  Wallace Stevens (2011). “The Collected Poems of Wallace Stevens”, p.351, Vintage

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• Tell X that speech is not dirty silence
  Clarified. It is silence made still dirtier.

  Wallace Stevens

  Dirty, Silence, Speech

  Wallace Stevens (2011). “Selected Poems”, p.157, Knopf

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• It is the imagination pressing back against the pressure of reality. It seems, in the last analysis, to have something to do with our self-preservation; and that, no doubt, is why the expression of it, the sound of its words, helps us to live our lives.

  Wallace Stevens

  Reality, Self, Expression

  Wallace Stevens (2011). “The Necessary Angel: Essays on Reality and the Imagination”, p.36, Vintage

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• I am the truth, since I am part of what is real, but neither more nor less than those around me.

  Wallace Stevens

  Real

  Wallace Stevens (2011). “The Necessary Angel: Essays on Reality and the Imagination”, p.63, Vintage

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• How full of trifles everything is! It is only one's thoughts that fill a room with something more than furniture.

  Wallace Stevens

  Rooms, Furniture, Trifles

  "Souvenirs and Prophecies: the Young Wallace Stevens" edited by Holly Stevens, (Ch. 9), 1977.

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• One must have a mind of winter
  To regard the frost and the boughs
  Of the pine-trees crusted with snow

  Wallace Stevens

  Winter, Snow, Tree

  Wallace Stevens (2011). “The Palm at the End of the Mind: Selected Poems and a Play”, p.89, Vintage

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• We say God and the imagination are one... How high that highest candle lights the dark.

  Wallace Stevens

  Dark, Light, Imagination

  Wallace Stevens, Holly Stevens (1966). “Letters of Wallace Stevens”, p.701, Univ of California Press

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• In a world of universal poverty
  The philosophers alone will be fat
  Against the autumn winds
  In an autumn that will be perpetual.

  Wallace Stevens

  Philosophical, Autumn, Wind

  Wallace Stevens (2011). “The Collected Poems of Wallace Stevens”, p.152, Vintage

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• You know that the nucleus of a time is not
  The poet but the poem, the growth of the mind
  Of the world, the heroic effort to live expressed
  As victory. The poet does not speak in ruins
  Nor stand there making orotund consolations.
  He shares the confusions of intelligence.

  Wallace Stevens

  Confusion, Poetry, Effort

  Wallace Stevens (1964). “the Collected Poems of Wallace Stevens”

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• Poetry is poetry, and one's objective as a poet is to achieve poetry precisely as one's objective in music is to achieve music.

  Wallace Stevens

  Poetry, Achieve, Music Is

  Wallace Stevens (2011). “Opus Posthumous: Poems, Plays, Prose”, p.318, Vintage

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