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The mind is the great poem of winter, the man, Who, to find what will suffice, Destroys romantic tenements Of rose and ice.
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
Mind
Destroys
Men
Ice
Poem
Romantic
Winter
Rose
Find
Tenements
Great
Suffice
More quotes by Wallace Stevens
The heavy trees, The grunting, shuffling branches, the robust, The nocturnal, the antique, the blue-green pines Deepen the feelings to inhuman depths.
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A change of style is a change of meaning.
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Next to love is the desire for love.
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If poetry should address itself to the same needs and aspirations, the same hopes and fears, to which the Bible addresses itself, it might rival it in distribution.
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Accuracy of observation is the equivalent of accuracy of thinking.
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The grackles sing avant the spring Most spiss oh! Yes, most spissantly. They sing right puissantly.
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I know noble accents And lucid, inescapable rhythms But I know, too, That the blackbird is involved In what I know.
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Reality is a cliché from which we escape by metaphor.
Wallace Stevens
Thought tends to collect in pools.
Wallace Stevens
the windy sky Cries out a literate despair.
Wallace Stevens
The mind can never be satisfied.
Wallace Stevens
For the listener, who listens in the snow, / And, nothing himself, beholds / Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.
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The genuine artist is never 'true to life.' He sees what is real, but not as we are normally aware of it. We do not go storming through life like actors in a play. Art is never real life.
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Metaphor creates a new reality from which the original appears to be unreal.
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The soul, O ganders, flies beyond the parks And far beyond the discords of the wind.
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The imagination is the power that enables us to perceive the normal in the abnormal, the opposite of chaos in chaos.
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The way through the world is more difficult to find than the way beyond it.
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Unless we believe in the hero, what is there To believe? Incisive what, the fellow Of what good. Devise. Make him of mud.
Wallace Stevens
Poetry is the scholar's art.
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The river is moving. The blackbird must be flying.
Wallace Stevens
