Quote

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

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

Wallace Stevens
Age: 75 †
Born: 1879
Born: October 2
Died: 1955
Died: August 2
Journalist
Lawyer
Playwright
Poet
Poet Lawyer
Writer
Make
Dwelling
Central
Evening
Air
Light
Together
Enough
Mind

More quotes by Wallace Stevens

Image
Nothing could be more inappropriate to American literature than its English source since the Americans are not British in sensibility.
Wallace Stevens
Image
How full of trifles everything is! It is only one's thoughts that fill a room with something more than furniture.
Wallace Stevens
Image
It is never the thing but the version of the thing.
Wallace Stevens
Image
To name an object is to deprive a poem of three-fourths of its pleasure, which consists in a little-by-little guessing game the ideal is to suggest.
Wallace Stevens
Image
One cannot spend one's time in being modern when there are so many more important things to be.
Wallace Stevens
Image
It must be this rhapsody or none, The rhapsody of things as they are.
Wallace Stevens
Image
I placed a jar in Tennessee, And round it was, upon a hill. It made the slovenly wilderness Surround that hill.
Wallace Stevens
Image
Funest philosophers and ponderers, Their evocations are the speech of clouds.
Wallace Stevens
Image
Yet there is no spring in Florida, neither in boskage perdu, nor on the nunnery beaches.
Wallace Stevens
Image
The mind is smaller than the eye.
Wallace Stevens
Image
Unfortunately there is nothing more inane than an Easter carol. It is a religious perversion of the activity of Spring in our blood.
Wallace Stevens
Image
The essential fault of surrealism is that it invents without discovering. To make a clam play an accordion is to invent not to discover. The observation of the unconscious, so far as it can be observed, should reveal things of which we have previously been unconscious, not the familiar things of which we have been conscious plus imagination.
Wallace Stevens
Image
We have been a little insane about the truth. We have had an obsession.
Wallace Stevens
Image
The whole race is a poet that writes down / The eccentric propositions of its fate.
Wallace Stevens
Image
The poet is the priest of the invisible.
Wallace Stevens
Image
The leaves hop, scraping on the ground. It is deep January. The sky is hard. The stalks are firmly rooted in ice. It is in this solitude, a syllable, Out of these gawky flitterings, Intones its single emptiness, The savagest hollow of winter-sound.
Wallace Stevens
Image
The reason can give nothing at all Like the response to desire.
Wallace Stevens
Image
Fromage and coffee and cognac and no gods.
Wallace Stevens
Image
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
Image
Freedom is like a man who kills himself Each night, an incessant butcher, whose knife Grows sharp in blood.
Wallace Stevens