Share
×
Inspirational Quotes
Authors
Professions
Topics
Tags
Quote
The figures of the past go cloaked. They walk in mist and rain and snow And go, go slowly, but they go.
Wallace Stevens
Share
Change background
T
T
T
Change font
Original
TAGS & TOPICS
Wallace Stevens
Age: 75 †
Born: 1879
Born: October 2
Died: 1955
Died: August 2
Journalist
Lawyer
Playwright
Poet
Poet Lawyer
Writer
Figures
Walk
Walks
Past
Cloaked
Mist
Slowly
Snow
Rain
More quotes by Wallace Stevens
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
The muddy rivers of spring Are snarling Under the muddy skies. The mind is muddy.
Wallace Stevens
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
The mind is smaller than the eye.
Wallace Stevens
Thought is an infection. In the case of certain thoughts, it becomes an epidemic.
Wallace Stevens
Imagination applied to the whole world is vapid in comparison to imagination applied to a detail.
Wallace Stevens
The grackles sing avant the spring Most spiss oh! Yes, most spissantly. They sing right puissantly.
Wallace Stevens
Metaphor creates a new reality from which the original appears to be unreal.
Wallace Stevens
Imagination...is the irrepressible revolutionist.
Wallace Stevens
One's ignorance is one's chief asset.
Wallace Stevens
How cold the vacancy When the phantoms are gone and the shaken realist First sees reality. The mortal no Has its emptiness and tragic expirations.
Wallace Stevens
The winter is made and you have to bear it, The winter web, the winter woven, wind and wind, For all the thoughts of summer that go with it In the mind, pupa of straw, moppet of rags.
Wallace Stevens
What's down below is in the past Like last night's crickets, far below.
Wallace Stevens
I have said no To everything, in order to get at myself. I have wiped away moonlight like mud.
Wallace Stevens
Words of the world are the life of the world.
Wallace Stevens
The sea Severs not only lands but also selves.
Wallace Stevens
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
You like it under the trees in autumn, because everything is half dead. The wind moves like a cripple among the leaves and repeats words without menaing.
Wallace Stevens
At evening casual flocks of pigeons make Ambiguous undulations as they sink Downward to darkness, on extended wings.
Wallace Stevens
The reader became the book and summer night Was like the conscious being of the book.
Wallace Stevens
