Wallace Stevens Quotes
Wallace Stevens Quotes. Below is a collection of famous Wallace Stevens quotes. Here you can find the most popular and greatest quotes by Wallace Stevens. Share these quotations with your friends and family.
with our bones We left much more, left what still is The look of things, left what we felt At what we saw.
By Wallace Stevens
Two forms move among the dead, high sleep Who by his highness quiets them, high peace...
By Wallace Stevens
Two things of opposite natures seem to depend On one another, as a man depends...
By Wallace Stevens
This death was his belief though death is a stone. This man loved earth, not heaven, enough to die.
By Wallace Stevens
There's no such thing as life; or if there is, It is faster than the weather, faster than...
By Wallace Stevens
The wound kills that does not bleed. It has no nurse nor kin to know Nor kin to care.
By Wallace Stevens
The old brown hen and the old blue sky, Between the two we live and die The broken cartwheel on the hill.
By Wallace Stevens
The body dies; the body's beauty lives. So evenings die, in their green going, A wave, interminably flowing.
By Wallace Stevens
Spread outward. Crack the round dome. Break through. Have liberty not as the air within a grave...
By Wallace Stevens
Susanna's music touched the bawdy strings Of those white elders; but, escaping,...
By Wallace Stevens
She says, 'But in contentment I still feel The need of some imperishable bliss.'...
By Wallace Stevens
Politic man ordained Imagination as the fateful sin. Grandmother and her basketful of pears Must be the crux for our compendia.
By Wallace Stevens
People fall out of windows, trees tumble down, Summer is changed to winter, the young grow old...
By Wallace Stevens
Life contracts and death is expected, As in a season of autumn. The soldier falls.
By Wallace Stevens
It may be that the ignorant man, alone, Has any chance to mate his life with life...
By Wallace Stevens
I placed a jar in Tennessee, And round it was, upon a hill. It made the slovenly wilderness Surround that hill.
By Wallace Stevens
I can't make head or tail of Life. Love is a fine thing, Art is a fine thing, Nature is a fine thing; but the average human mind and spirit ar...
By Wallace Stevens
Freedom is like a man who kills himself Each night, an incessant butcher, whose knife Grows sharp in blood.
By Wallace Stevens
From this the poem springs: that we live in a place That is not our own and, much more, not ourselves...
By Wallace Stevens
Death is the mother of beauty, mystical, Within whose burning bosom we devise Our earthly mothers waiting, sleeplessly.
By Wallace Stevens