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Imagination is the will 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
Things
Imagination

More quotes by Wallace Stevens

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Human nature is like water. It takes the shape of its container.
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The imagination is the liberty of the mind It is intrpeid and eager and the extreme of its achievement lies in abstraction.
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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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Style is not something applied. It is something that permeates.
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Key West, unfortunately, is becoming rather literary and artistic.
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The whole race is a poet that writes down / The eccentric propositions of its fate.
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Life is not free from its forms.
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Poetry is an abstraction bloodied.
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The thinker as reader reads what has been written. He wears the words he reads to look upon Within his being.
Wallace Stevens
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It is never the thing but the version of the thing.
Wallace Stevens
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Life is an affair of people not of places. But for me, life is an affair of places and that is the trouble.
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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.
Wallace Stevens
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Unfortunately there is nothing more inane than an Easter carol. It is a religious perversion of the activity of Spring in our blood.
Wallace Stevens
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The physical world is meaningless tonight And there is no other.
Wallace Stevens
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It may be that the ignorant man, alone, Has any chance to mate his life with life That is the sensual, pearly spouse, the life That is fluent in even the wintriest bronze.
Wallace Stevens
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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.
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The grackles sing avant the spring Most spiss oh! Yes, most spissantly. They sing right puissantly.
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If sex were all, then every trembling hand Could make us squeak, like dolls, the wished-for words.
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Spread outward. Crack the round dome. Break through. Have liberty not as the air within a grave Or down a well. Breathe freedom, oh, my native, In the space of horizons that neither love nor hate.
Wallace Stevens
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Poetry is a satifying of the desire for resemblance.
Wallace Stevens