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Realism is a corruption of reality.

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
Realism
Corruption
Reality

More quotes by Wallace Stevens

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One must read poetry with one's nerves.
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Conceptions are artificial. Perceptions are essential.
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It is not everyday that the world arranges itself into a poem.
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in the presence of extraordinary actuality, consciousness takes the place of imagination.
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Key West, unfortunately, is becoming rather literary and artistic.
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The whole race is a poet that writes down / The eccentric propositions of its fate.
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The physical world is meaningless tonight And there is no other.
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The soul, O ganders, flies beyond the parks And far beyond the discords of the wind.
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Above the forest of the parakeets, A parakeet of parakeets prevails, A pip of life amid a mort of tails.
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Everything is complicated if that were not so, life and poetry and everything else would be a bore.
Wallace Stevens
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We live in an old chaos of the sun.
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The death of Satan was a tragedy For the imagination.
Wallace Stevens
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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
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Day after day, throughout the winter, We hardened ourselves to live by bluest reason In a world of wind and frost.
Wallace Stevens
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Beauty is momentary in the mind -- The fitful tracing of a portal But in the flesh it is immortal. The body dies the body's beauty lives. So evenings die, in their green going, A wave, interminably flowing.
Wallace Stevens
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It gives a man character as a poet to have a daily contact with a job. I doubt whether I've lost a thing by leading an exceedingly regular and disciplined life.
Wallace Stevens
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It is deep January. The sky is hard. The stalks are firmly rooted in ice.
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What is there in life except one's ideas, Good air, good friend, what is there in life?
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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
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Children picking up our bones Will never know that these were once As quick as foxes on the hill.
Wallace Stevens