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The poet is the priest of the invisible.
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
Poetry
Priest
Priests
Invisible
Poet
More quotes by 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.
Wallace Stevens
One must read poetry with one's nerves.
Wallace Stevens
After the leaves have fallen, we return To a plain sense of things. It is as if We had come to an end of the imagination, Inanimate in an inert savoir.
Wallace Stevens
I measure myself Against a tall tree I find that I am much taller, For I reach right up to the sun With my eye And I reach to the shore of the sea With my ear. Nevertheless, I dislike The way the ants crawl In and out of my shadow.
Wallace Stevens
Life is an affair of people not of places. But for me, life is an affair of places and that is the trouble.
Wallace Stevens
How has the human spirit ever survived the terrific literature with which it has had to contend?
Wallace Stevens
The thinker as reader reads what has been written. He wears the words he reads to look upon Within his being.
Wallace Stevens
We must endure our thoughts all night, until the bright obvious stands motionless in the cold.
Wallace Stevens
Human nature is like water. It takes the shape of its container.
Wallace Stevens
The death of Satan was a tragedy For the imagination.
Wallace Stevens
One ought not to hoard culture. It should be adapted and infused into society as a leaven. Liberality of culture does not mean illiberality of its benefits.
Wallace Stevens
Already the new-born children interpret love In the voices of mothers.
Wallace Stevens
Most people read poetry listening for echoes because the echoes are familiar to them. They wade through it the way a boy wades through water, feeling with his toes for the bottom: The echoes are the bottom.
Wallace Stevens
the windy sky Cries out a literate despair.
Wallace Stevens
The wind had seized the tree and ha, and ha, It held the shivering, the shaken limbs, Then bathed its body in the leaping lake.
Wallace Stevens
The poem must resist the intelligence almost successfully.
Wallace Stevens
A poet looks at the world the way a man looks at a woman.
Wallace Stevens
Most modern reproducers of life, even including the camera, really repudiate it. We gulp down evil, choke at good.
Wallace Stevens
Poor, dear, silly Spring, preparing her annual surprise!
Wallace Stevens
Poetry is the scholar's art.
Wallace Stevens
