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How has the human spirit ever survived the terrific literature with which it has had to contend?
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
Survived
Literature
Spirit
Ever
Human
Humans
Contend
Terrific
More quotes by Wallace Stevens
It is the mind that is woven, the mind that was jerked And tufted in straggling thunder and shattered sun.
Wallace Stevens
The wind shifts like this: Like a human without illusions, Who still feels irrational things within her.
Wallace Stevens
The poet is the priest of the invisible.
Wallace Stevens
Poetry is the statement of a relation between a man and the world
Wallace Stevens
Imagination...is the irrepressible revolutionist.
Wallace Stevens
If some really acute observer made as much of egotism as Freud has made of sex, people would forget a good deal about sex and find the explanation for everything in egotism.
Wallace Stevens
One must have a mind of winter To regard the frost and the boughs Of the pine-trees crusted with snow
Wallace Stevens
The purpose of poetry is to make life complete in itself.
Wallace Stevens
The summer night is like a perfection of thought.
Wallace Stevens
The point of vision and desire are the same.
Wallace Stevens
Poetry is a means of redemption.
Wallace Stevens
I certainly do not exist from nine to six, when I am at the office.
Wallace Stevens
The day of the sun is like the day of a king. It is a promenade in the morning, a sitting on the throne at noon, a pageant in the evening.
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
The figures of the past go cloaked. They walk in mist and rain and snow And go, go slowly, but they go.
Wallace Stevens
It is not everyday that the world arranges itself into a poem.
Wallace Stevens
Just as my fingers on these keys make music, so the self-same sounds on my spirit make a music too.
Wallace Stevens
the windy sky Cries out a literate despair.
Wallace Stevens
The yellow glistens. It glistens with various yellows, Citrons, oranges and greens Flowering over the skin.
Wallace Stevens
Union of the weakest develops strength not wisdom. Can all men, together, avenge one of the leaves that have fallen in autumn? But the wise man avenges by building his city in snow.
Wallace Stevens
