Share
×
Inspirational Quotes
Authors
Professions
Topics
Tags
Quote
The life of the city never lets you go, nor do you ever want it to.
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
Lets
City
Cities
Ever
Never
Life
More quotes by Wallace Stevens
The wind shifts like this: Like a human without illusions, Who still feels irrational things within her.
Wallace Stevens
Conceptions are artificial. Perceptions are essential.
Wallace Stevens
The river is moving. The blackbird must be flying.
Wallace Stevens
The only emperor is the emperor of ice cream.
Wallace Stevens
The imagination loses vitality as it ceases to adhere to what is real.
Wallace Stevens
The word is the making of the world
Wallace Stevens
Life's nonsense pierces us with strange relation.
Wallace Stevens
Day after day, throughout the winter, We hardened ourselves to live by bluest reason In a world of wind and frost.
Wallace Stevens
It is the mind that is woven, the mind that was jerked And tufted in straggling thunder and shattered sun.
Wallace Stevens
If sex were all, then every trembling hand Could make us squeak, like dolls, the wished-for words.
Wallace Stevens
We live in an old chaos of the sun.
Wallace Stevens
The consolations of space are nameless things. It was after the neurosis of winter. It was In the genius of summer that they blew up The statue of Jove among the boomy clouds. It took all day to quieten the sky And then to refill its emptiness again.
Wallace Stevens
Man is an eternal sophomore.
Wallace Stevens
Life is the elimination of what is dead.
Wallace Stevens
Poetry is a satifying of the desire for resemblance.
Wallace Stevens
The old brown hen and the old blue sky, Between the two we live and die The broken cartwheel on the hill.
Wallace Stevens
Poetry is poetry, and one's objective as a poet is to achieve poetry precisely as one's objective in music is to achieve music.
Wallace Stevens
Death is the mother of beauty. Only the perishable can be beautiful, which is why we are unmoved by artificial flowers.
Wallace Stevens
All poetry is experimental poetry.
Wallace Stevens
Why should she give her bounty to the dead? What is divinity if it can come Only in silent shadows and in dreams?
Wallace Stevens
