Share
×
Inspirational Quotes
Authors
Professions
Topics
Tags
Quote
The heavy trees, The grunting, shuffling branches, the robust, The nocturnal, the antique, the blue-green pines Deepen the feelings to inhuman depths.
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
Heavy
Deepen
Green
Antiques
Blue
Inhuman
Tree
Robust
Grunting
Feelings
Depths
Pines
Branches
Nocturnal
Trees
Shuffling
Depth
Antique
More quotes by Wallace Stevens
I am what is around me.
Wallace Stevens
The philosopher proves that the philosopher exists. The poet merely enjoys existence.
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
We say This changes and that changes. Thus the constant Violets, doves, girls, bees and hyacinths Are inconstant objects of inconstant cause In a universe of inconstancy.
Wallace Stevens
Life's nonsense pierces us with strange relation.
Wallace Stevens
Of what is real I say, Is it the old, the roseate parent or The bride come jingling, kissed and cupped, or else The spirit and all ensigns of the self?
Wallace Stevens
God is gracious to some very peculiar people.
Wallace Stevens
It has to be living, to learn the speech of the place, It has to face the man of the time.
Wallace Stevens
Poetry is a means of redemption.
Wallace Stevens
One must read poetry with one's nerves.
Wallace Stevens
On a few words of what is real in the world I nourish myself. I defend myself against Whatever remains.
Wallace Stevens
The mind can never be satisfied.
Wallace Stevens
The night Makes everything grotesque. Is it because Night is the nature of man's interior world?
Wallace Stevens
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
Death is the mother of beauty, mystical, Within whose burning bosom we devise Our earthly mothers waiting, sleeplessly.
Wallace Stevens
The mind is smaller than the eye.
Wallace Stevens
It is not everyday that the world arranges itself into a poem.
Wallace Stevens
To name an object is to deprive a poem of three-fourths of its pleasure, which consists in a little-by-little guessing game the ideal is to suggest.
Wallace Stevens
After the final no there comes a yes And on that yes the future world depends.
Wallace Stevens
How full of trifles everything is! It is only one's thoughts that fill a room with something more than furniture.
Wallace Stevens