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The grackles sing avant the spring Most spiss oh! Yes, most spissantly. They sing right puissantly.

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
Avant
Sing
Spring
Right

More quotes by Wallace Stevens

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The old brown hen and the old blue sky, Between the two we live and die The broken cartwheel on the hill.
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One must read poetry with one's nerves.
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The night Makes everything grotesque. Is it because Night is the nature of man's interior world?
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Everything possessed the power to transform itself, or else, and what meant more, to be transformed.
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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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Life is not free from its forms.
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Out of this same light, out of the central mind, We make a dwelling in the evening air, In which being there together is enough.
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A poet's words are of things that do not exist without the words.
Wallace Stevens
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Complacencies of the peignoir, and late Coffee and oranges in a sunny chair. And the green freedom of a cockatoo Upon a rug mingle to dissipate The holy hush of ancient sacrifice
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I certainly do not exist from nine to six, when I am at the office.
Wallace Stevens
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The imagination is one of the forces of nature.
Wallace Stevens
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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.
Wallace Stevens
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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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Civilization must be destroyed. The hairy saints of the North have earned this crumb by their complaints.
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The imperfect is our paradise.
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The world about us would be desolate except for the world within us.
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Conceptions are artificial. Perceptions are essential.
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How red the rose that is the soldier
Wallace Stevens
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The final belief is to believe in a fiction, which you know to be a fiction, there being nothing else. The exquisite truth is to know that it is a fiction and that you believe in it willingly.
Wallace Stevens
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The mind is the terriblest force in the world, father, Because, in chief, it, only, can defend Against itself. At its mercy, we depend Upon it.
Wallace Stevens