Wallace Stevens Quotes

If sex were all, then every trembling hand
Could make us squeak, like dolls, the wished-for words.

The imperfect is our paradise.

It is deep January. The sky is hard.
The stalks are firmly rooted in ice.

It is in this solitude, a syllable,
Out of these gawky flitterings,

Intones its single emptiness,
The savagest hollow of winter-sound.

Soldier, there is a war between the mind And sky, between thought and day and night. It is For that the poet is always in the sun,<p> Patches the moon together in his room To his Virgilian cadences, up down, Up down. It is a war that never ends.

Life consists Of propositions about life. The human Revery is a solitude in which We compose these propositions, torn by dreams, <p> By the terrible incantations of defeats And by the fear that the defeats and the dreams are one. <p> The whole race is a poet that writes down The eccentric propositions of its fate.

I am a native in this world And think in it as a native thinks

The imagination is one of the forces of nature.

The day of the sun is like the day of a king. It is a promenade in the morning, a sitting on the throne at noon, a pageant in the evening.

They will get it straight one day at the Sorbonne.
We shall return at twilight from the lecture
Pleased that the irrational is rational

A man and a woman Are one. A man and a woman and a blackbird Are one.

I placed a jar in Tennessee and round it
was upon a hill.

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.

Our own time, and by this I mean the last two or three generations, including our own, can be summed up in a way that brings into unity an immense number of details by saying of it that it is a time in which the search for the supreme truth has been a search in reality or through reality or even a search for some supremely acceptable fiction.

Perhaps,
The man-hero is not the exceptional monster,
But he that of repetition is most master.

It is the sea that whitens the roof. The sea drifts through the winter air. It is the sea that the north wind makes. The sea is in the falling snow. This gloom is the darkness of the sea.