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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
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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
Mind
Make
Dwelling
Central
Evening
Air
Light
Together
Enough
More quotes by Wallace Stevens
People ought to like poetry the way a child likes snow & they would if poets wrote it.
Wallace Stevens
The only emperor is the emperor of ice cream.
Wallace Stevens
One sparrow is worth a thousand gulls, When it sings. The gull sits on chimney-tops. He mocks the guinea, challenges The crow, inciting various modes. The sparrow requites one, without intent.
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An old argument with me is that the true religious force in the world is not the church, but the world itself: the mysterious callings of Nature and our responses.
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The old brown hen and the old blue sky, Between the two we live and die The broken cartwheel on the hill.
Wallace Stevens
The reading of a poem should be an experience. Its writing must be all the more so.
Wallace Stevens
...after a night spent writing poetry, one is almost happy to hear the milkman at the door.
Wallace Stevens
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
Life is not free from its forms.
Wallace Stevens
Poetry is an abstraction bloodied.
Wallace Stevens
Sentimentality is a failure of feeling.
Wallace Stevens
The mind can never be satisfied.
Wallace Stevens
Thus the theory of description matters most. It is the theory of the word for those For whom the word is the making of the world, The buzzing world and lisping firmament.
Wallace Stevens
The imagination is man's power over nature.
Wallace Stevens
Imagination applied to the whole world is vapid in comparison to imagination applied to a detail.
Wallace Stevens
The physical world is meaningless tonight And there is no other.
Wallace Stevens
Ethics are no more a part of poetry than theyare of painting.
Wallace Stevens
The wind shifts like this: Like a human without illusions, Who still feels irrational things within her.
Wallace Stevens
A poet looks at the world the way a man looks at a woman.
Wallace Stevens
As life grows more terrible, its literature grows more terrible.
Wallace Stevens
