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Perhaps the truth depends on a walk around the lake.
Wallace Stevens
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Wallace Stevens
Age: 75 †
Born: 1879
Born: October 2
Died: 1955
Died: August 2
Journalist
Lawyer
Playwright
Poet
Poet Lawyer
Writer
Perhaps
Trekking
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Lake
Around
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Lakes
Walking
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Walk
More quotes by Wallace Stevens
Of what is real I say, Is it the old, the roseate parent or The bride come jingling, kissed and cupped, or else The spirit and all ensigns of the self?
Wallace Stevens
The house was quiet and the world was calm. The reader became the book.
Wallace Stevens
It is the sea that whitens the roof. The sea drifts through the winter air. It is the sea that the north wind makes. The sea is in the falling snow.
Wallace Stevens
We must endure our thoughts all night, until the bright obvious stands motionless in the cold.
Wallace Stevens
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
The wind, Tempestuous clarion, with heavy cry, Came bluntly thundering, more terrible Than the revenge of music on bassoons.
Wallace Stevens
Realism is a corruption of reality.
Wallace Stevens
To a large extent, the problems of poets are the problems of painters, and poets must often turn to the literature of painting for a discussion of their own problems.
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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
It is necessary to any originality to have the courage to be an amateur.
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What is there in life except one's ideas, Good air, good friend, what is there in life?
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The greatest poverty is not to live In a physical world, to feel that one's desire Is too difficult to tell from despair.
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It was autumn and falling stars Covered the shrivelled forms Crouched in the moonlight.
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Life's nonsense pierces us with strange relation.
Wallace Stevens
I am one of you and being one of you is being and knowing what I am and know. Yet I am the necessary Angel of earth, since, in my sight, you see the earth again.
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Our bloom is gone. We are the fruit thereof.
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I am the angel of Reality, Seen for a moment standing in the door.
Wallace Stevens
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.
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Money is a kind of poetry.
Wallace Stevens
God is gracious to some very peculiar people.
Wallace Stevens
