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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
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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
Furniture
Fill
Thoughts
Room
Rooms
Full
Everything
Pettiness
Something
Trifles
More quotes by Wallace Stevens
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.
Wallace Stevens
Poor, dear, silly Spring, preparing her annual surprise!
Wallace Stevens
I certainly do not exist from nine to six, when I am at the office.
Wallace Stevens
A poet looks at the world the way a man looks at a woman.
Wallace Stevens
It was autumn and falling stars Covered the shrivelled forms Crouched in the moonlight.
Wallace Stevens
The sea Severs not only lands but also selves.
Wallace Stevens
It may be that the ignorant man, alone, Has any chance to mate his life with life That is the sensual, pearly spouse, the life That is fluent in even the wintriest bronze.
Wallace Stevens
To lose sensibility, to see what one sees, As if sight had not its own miraculous thrift, To hear only what one hears, one meaning alone, As if the paradise of meaning ceased To be paradise, it is this to be destitute.
Wallace Stevens
The poet is the priest of the invisible.
Wallace Stevens
Fat girl, terrestrial, my summer, my night, How is it I find you in difference, see you there In a moving contour, a change not quite completed? You are familiar yet an aberration.
Wallace Stevens
Style is not something applied. It is something that permeates. It is of the nature of that in which it is found, whether the poem, the manner of a god, the bearing of a man. It is not a dress.
Wallace Stevens
How has the human spirit ever survived the terrific literature with which it has had to contend?
Wallace Stevens
Fromage and coffee and cognac and no gods.
Wallace Stevens
Everything possessed the power to transform itself, or else, and what meant more, to be transformed.
Wallace Stevens
The poet makes silk dresses out of worms.
Wallace Stevens
Tinsel in February, tinsel in August. There are things in a man besides his reason.
Wallace Stevens
The physical world is meaningless tonight And there is no other.
Wallace Stevens
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.
Wallace Stevens
Complacencies of the peignoir, and late Coffee and oranges in a sunny chair. And the green freedom of a cockatoo Upon a rug mingle to dissipate The holy hush of ancient sacrifice
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
