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If sex were all, then every trembling hand Could make us squeak, like dolls, the wished-for words.
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
Wished
Sex
Hand
Words
Hands
Every
Squeak
Make
Dolls
Like
Trembling
More quotes by Wallace Stevens
Imagination...is the irrepressible revolutionist.
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A poet's words are of things that do not exist without the words.
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It is never the thing but the version of the thing.
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Imagination applied to the whole world is vapid in comparison to imagination applied to a detail.
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Imagination is the power of the mind over the possibilities of things.
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Fromage and coffee and cognac and no gods.
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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.
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God is gracious to some very peculiar people.
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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.
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Most modern reproducers of life, even including the camera, really repudiate it. We gulp down evil, choke at good.
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I am the truth, since I am part of what is real, but neither more nor less than those around me.
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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.
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Reality is not what it is. It consists of the many realities which it can be made into.
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The way through the world is more difficult to find than the way beyond it.
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Anything is beautiful if you say it is.
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It is deep January. The sky is hard. The stalks are firmly rooted in ice.
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The wind, Tempestuous clarion, with heavy cry, Came bluntly thundering, more terrible Than the revenge of music on bassoons.
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New York is a field of tireless and antagonistic interests undoubtedly fascinating but horribly unreal. Everybody is looking at everybody else a foolish crowd walking on mirrors.
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Throw away the light, the definitions, and say what you see in the dark.
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A poet looks at the world the way a man looks at a woman.
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