Wallace Stevens Quotes
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Accuracy of observation is the equivalent of accuracy of thinking.
In the world of words, the imagination is one of the forces of nature.
For the listener, who listens in the snow, / And, nothing himself, beholds /Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.
I do not know which to prefer, The beauty of inflectionsOr the beauty of innuendosThe blackbird whistlingOr just after.
Let be be finale of seem.The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.
Poor, dear, silly Spring, preparing her annual surprise!
The imagination is man's power over nature.
To regard the imagination as metaphysics is to think of it as part of life, and to think of it as part of life is to realize the extent of artifice. We live in the mind.
Death is the mother of beauty. Only the perishable can be beautiful, which is why we are unmoved by artificial flowers.
He heard her low accord, Half prayer and half ditty, And He felt a subtle quiver, That was not heavenly love, Or pity.This is not writIn any book.
Intolerance respecting other people's religion is toleration itself in comparison with intolerance respecting other people's art.
The day of the sun is like the day of a king. It is a promenade in the morning, a sitting on the throne at noon, a pageant in the evening.
In poetry, you must love the words, the ideas and the images and rhythms with all your capacity to love anything at all.
Conceptions are artificial. Perceptions are essential.
The most beautiful thing in the world is, of course, the world itself.
After the leaves have fallen, we returnTo a plain sense of things. It is as ifWe had come to an end of the imagination, Inanimate in an inert savoir.
A pear should come to the table popped with juice, Ripened in warmth and served in warmth. On termsLike these, autumn beguiles the fatalist.
The final belief is to believe in a fiction, which you know to be a fiction, there being nothing else. The exquisite truth is to know that it is a fiction and that you believe in it willingly.
A poem is a meteor.
I do not know which to prefer, The beauty of inflections, Or the beauty of innuendoes, The blackbird whistling, Or just after.
In poetry you must love the words the ideas and the images and rhythms with all your capacity to love anything at all.
Consider the odd morphology of regret.
The poet is the priest of the invisible.
One must read poetry with one's nerves.
Desiring the exhilarations of changes: The motive for metaphor, shrinking fromThe weight of primary noon ...
The way through the worldIs more difficult to find than the way beyond it.
All history is modern history.
It is necessary to any originality to have the courage to be an amateur.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice cream.
A poet looks at the world the way a man looks at a woman.
We live in an old chaos of the sun.
We say God and the imagination are one... How high that highest candle lights the dark.
Reality is a cliché from which we escape by metaphor.
I am the truth, since I am part of what is real, but neither more nor less than those around me.
There will never be an endTo this droning of the surf.
The truth is that there comes a time When we can mourn no more over music That is so much motionless sound
I placed a jar in Tennessee and round it was upon a hill.
Money is a kind of poetry.
The exceeding brightness of this early sunMakes me conceive how dark I have become.
A change of style is a change of meaning.
Human nature is like water. It takes the shape of its container.
From oriole to crow, note the declineIn music. Crow is realist. But, then, Oriole, also, may be realist.
Most modern reproducers of life, even including the camera, really repudiate it. We gulp down evil, choke at good.
(Wallace) Stevens turns to the idea of the weather precisely as the religious man turns to the idea of God.
We say God and the imagination are one . . .How high that highest candle lights the dark.
Poetry is a finikin thing of airThat lives uncertainly and not for longYet radiantly beyond much lustier blurs.
Poetry is the scholar's art.
The poem must resist the intelligenceAlmost successfully.
There is a perfect rout of characters in every man—and every man is like an actor’s trunk, full of strange creatures, new & old. But an actor and his trunk are two different things
Poetry is an abstraction bloodied.