Share
×
Inspirational Quotes
Authors
Professions
Topics
Tags
Quote
You like it under the trees in autumn, because everything is half dead. The wind moves like a cripple among the leaves and repeats words without menaing.
Wallace Stevens
Share
Change background
T
T
T
Change font
Original
TAGS & TOPICS
Wallace Stevens
Age: 75 †
Born: 1879
Born: October 2
Died: 1955
Died: August 2
Journalist
Lawyer
Playwright
Poet
Poet Lawyer
Writer
Repeats
Half
Words
Moves
Moving
Trees
Fall
Leaves
Everything
Among
Cripple
Without
Wind
Cripples
Like
Dead
Autumn
Tree
More quotes by Wallace Stevens
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
Civilization must be destroyed. The hairy saints of the North have earned this crumb by their complaints.
Wallace Stevens
Fromage and coffee and cognac and no gods.
Wallace Stevens
Compare the silent rose of the sun And rain, the blood-rose living in its smell, With this paper, this dust. That states the point.
Wallace Stevens
Metaphor creates a new reality from which the original appears to be unreal.
Wallace Stevens
Intolerance respecting other people's religion is toleration itself in comparison with intolerance respecting other people's art.
Wallace Stevens
People ought to like poetry the way a child likes snow & they would if poets wrote it.
Wallace Stevens
The wind, Tempestuous clarion, with heavy cry, Came bluntly thundering, more terrible Than the revenge of music on bassoons.
Wallace Stevens
Imagination...is the irrepressible revolutionist.
Wallace Stevens
Imagination is the will of things. . . .
Wallace Stevens
It is never the thing but the version of the thing.
Wallace Stevens
The imagination loses vitality as it ceases to adhere to what is real. When it adheres to the unreal and intensifies what is unreal, while its first effect may be extraordinary, that effect is the maximum effect that it will ever have.
Wallace Stevens
If ever the search for a tranquil belief should end, The future might stop emerging out of the past, Out of what is full of us yet the search And the future emerging out of us seem to be one.
Wallace Stevens
The belief in poetry is a magnificent fury, or it is nothing.
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
The mind is the great poem of winter, the man, Who, to find what will suffice, Destroys romantic tenements Of rose and ice.
Wallace Stevens
A violent order is disorder and a great disorder is an order. These two things are one.
Wallace Stevens
All the great things have been denied and we live in an intricacy of new and local mythologies, political, economic, poetic, which are asserted with an ever-enlarging incoherence.
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
For the listener, who listens in the snow, / And, nothing himself, beholds / Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.
Wallace Stevens
