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Funest philosophers and ponderers, Their evocations are the speech of clouds.

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
Philosophical
Clouds
Speech
Philosophers
Philosopher

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The grackles sing avant the spring Most spiss oh! Yes, most spissantly. They sing right puissantly.
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The physical world is meaningless tonight And there is no other.
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All poetry is experimental poetry.
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Just as my fingers on these keys make music, so the self-same sounds on my spirit make a music too.
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How red the rose that is the soldier
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Two things of opposite natures seem to depend / One on another, as Logos depends / On Eros, day on night, the imagined On the real. / This is the origin of change.
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What's down below is in the past Like last night's crickets, far below.
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A change of style is a change of meaning.
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Already the new-born children interpret love In the voices of mothers.
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A pear should come to the table popped with juice, Ripened in warmth and served in warmth. On terms Like these, autumn beguiles the fatalist.
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Most people read poetry listening for echoes because the echoes are familiar to them. They wade through it the way a boy wades through water, feeling with his toes for the bottom: The echoes are the bottom.
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The yellow glistens. It glistens with various yellows, Citrons, oranges and greens Flowering over the skin.
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Imagination applied to the whole world is vapid in comparison to imagination applied to a detail.
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Reality is a cliché from which we escape by metaphor.
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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?
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The way through the world is more difficult to find than the way beyond it.
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At the sight of blackbirds Flying in a green light, Even the bawds of euphony Would cry out sharply.
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The mind is smaller than the eye.
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The imagination loses vitality as it ceases to adhere to what is real.
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It is never the thing but the version of the thing.
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