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My tribute to mystical, magical trees that the Cherokee called standing people. . . .
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
Tree
Called
Cherokee
People
Tribute
Mystical
Magical
Trees
Standing
Magic
More quotes by Wallace Stevens
It has to be living, to learn the speech of the place, It has to face the man of the time.
Wallace Stevens
What is one man among so many men? What are so many men in such a world? Can one man think one thing and think it long? Can one man be one thing and be it long?
Wallace Stevens
The genuine artist is never 'true to life.' He sees what is real, but not as we are normally aware of it. We do not go storming through life like actors in a play. Art is never real life.
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 life of the city never lets you go, nor do you ever want it to.
Wallace Stevens
The imperfect is our paradise.
Wallace Stevens
The belief in poetry is a magnificent fury, or it is nothing.
Wallace Stevens
After a lustre of the moon, we say We have not the need of any paradise, We have not the need of any seducing hymn.
Wallace Stevens
I have said no To everything, in order to get at myself. I have wiped away moonlight like mud.
Wallace Stevens
in the presence of extraordinary actuality, consciousness takes the place of imagination.
Wallace Stevens
Anything is beautiful if you say it is.
Wallace Stevens
The wind shifts like this: Like a human without illusions, Who still feels irrational things within her.
Wallace Stevens
How cold the vacancy When the phantoms are gone and the shaken realist First sees reality. The mortal no Has its emptiness and tragic expirations.
Wallace Stevens
That tuft of jungle feathers, That animal eye, Is just what you say. That savage of fire, That seed, Have it your way. The world is ugly, And the people are sad.
Wallace Stevens
behold The approach of him whom none believes, Whom all believe that all believe, A pagan in a varnished car.
Wallace Stevens
A diary is more or less the work of a man of clay whose hands are clumsy and in whose eyes there is no light.
Wallace Stevens
I still feel the need of some imperishable bliss.
Wallace Stevens
Man is an eternal sophomore.
Wallace Stevens
Soldier, there is a war between the mind And sky, between thought and day and night. It is For that the poet is always in the sun, Patches the moon together in his room To his Virgilian cadences, up down, Up down. It is a war that never ends.
Wallace Stevens
Funest philosophers and ponderers, Their evocations are the speech of clouds.
Wallace Stevens
