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An old argument with me is that the true religious force in the world is not the church, but the world itself: the mysterious callings of Nature and our responses.
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
True
Response
Nature
Calling
World
Argument
Religious
Church
Callings
Religion
Responses
Force
Mysterious
Spirit
Spirituality
More quotes by Wallace Stevens
The sea Severs not only lands but also selves.
Wallace Stevens
Thought tends to collect in pools.
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
Conceptions are artificial. Perceptions are essential.
Wallace Stevens
The only emperor is the emperor of ice cream.
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
A poet's words are of things that do not exist without the words.
Wallace Stevens
Why should she give her bounty to the dead? What is divinity if it can come Only in silent shadows and in dreams?
Wallace Stevens
The wind, Tempestuous clarion, with heavy cry, Came bluntly thundering, more terrible Than the revenge of music on bassoons.
Wallace Stevens
Of what is real I say, Is it the old, the roseate parent or The bride come jingling, kissed and cupped, or else The spirit and all ensigns of the self?
Wallace Stevens
I was myself the compass of that sea: I was the world in which I walked, and what I saw Or heard or felt came not but from myself And there I found myself more truly and more strange.
Wallace Stevens
A violent order is disorder and a great disorder is an order. These two things are one.
Wallace Stevens
The purpose of poetry is to make life complete in itself.
Wallace Stevens
The great poems of heaven and hell have been written and the great poem of earth remains to be written.
Wallace Stevens
To lose sensibility, to see what one sees, As if sight had not its own miraculous thrift, To hear only what one hears, one meaning alone, As if the paradise of meaning ceased To be paradise, it is this to be destitute.
Wallace Stevens
Life is not free from its forms.
Wallace Stevens
The death of Satan was a tragedy For the imagination.
Wallace Stevens
The leaves hop, scraping on the ground. It is deep January. The sky is hard. The stalks are firmly rooted in ice. It is in this solitude, a syllable, Out of these gawky flitterings, Intones its single emptiness, The savagest hollow of winter-sound.
Wallace Stevens
Poetry is an abstraction bloodied.
Wallace Stevens
One cannot spend one's time in being modern when there are so many more important things to be.
Wallace Stevens
