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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?
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
Humanity
Many
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Men
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World
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More quotes by Wallace Stevens
Poetry is the statement of a relation between a man and the world
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...after a night spent writing poetry, one is almost happy to hear the milkman at the door.
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Man is an eternal sophomore.
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If some really acute observer made as much of egotism as Freud has made of sex, people would forget a good deal about sex and find the explanation for everything in egotism.
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Poetry is a satifying of the desire for resemblance.
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Everything is complicated if that were not so, life and poetry and everything else would be a bore.
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To regard the imagination as metaphysics is to think of it as part of life, and to think of it as part of life is to realize the extent of artifice. We live in the mind.
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Key West, unfortunately, is becoming rather literary and artistic.
Wallace Stevens
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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Music falls on the silence like a sense / A passion that we feel, not understand.
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The wind shifts like this: Like a human without illusions, Who still feels irrational things within her.
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Death is the mother of beauty. Only the perishable can be beautiful, which is why we are unmoved by artificial flowers.
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Poetry is a response to the daily necessity of getting the world right.
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I have said no To everything, in order to get at myself. I have wiped away moonlight like mud.
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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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I am the angel of Reality, Seen for a moment standing in the door.
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The way through the world is more difficult to find than the way beyond it.
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We have been a little insane about the truth. We have had an obsession.
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It has to be living, to learn the speech of the place, It has to face the man of the time.
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How red the rose that is the soldier
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