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Imagination is the power of the mind over the possibilities of things.

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
Possibilities
Possibility
Imagination
Power
Mind
Things

More quotes by Wallace Stevens

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The subject matter... is not that collection of solid, static objects extended in space but the life that is lived in the scene that it composes.
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The consolations of space are nameless things. It was after the neurosis of winter. It was In the genius of summer that they blew up The statue of Jove among the boomy clouds. It took all day to quieten the sky And then to refill its emptiness again.
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One's ignorance is one's chief asset.
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I certainly do not exist from nine to six, when I am at the office.
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I do not know which to prefer - The beauty of inflections Or the beauty of innuendoes, The blackbird whistling Or just after.
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Style is not something applied. It is something that permeates.
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A poet's words are of things that do not exist without the words.
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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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Everybody is looking at everybody else a foolish crowd walking on mirrors.
Wallace Stevens
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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
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Style is not something applied. It is something that permeates. It is of the nature of that in which it is found, whether the poem, the manner of a god, the bearing of a man. It is not a dress.
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in the presence of extraordinary actuality, consciousness takes the place of imagination.
Wallace Stevens
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Anything is beautiful if you say it is.
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The belief in poetry is a magnificent fury, or it is nothing.
Wallace Stevens
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Conceptions are artificial. Perceptions are essential.
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.
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If ever the search for a tranquil belief should end, The future might stop emerging out of the past, Out of what is full of us yet the search And the future emerging out of us seem to be one.
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
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Life is the elimination of what is dead.
Wallace Stevens
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You like it under the trees in autumn, because everything is half dead. The wind moves like a cripple among the leaves and repeats words without menaing.
Wallace Stevens