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Wallace Stevens quotes - page 10
It is not in the premise that reality Is a solid. It may be a shade that traverses A dust, a force that traverses a shade.
Wallace Stevens
Reality is the beginning not the end, Naked Alpha, not the hierophant Omega, Of dense investiture, with luminous vassals.
Wallace Stevens
The operation of the imagination in life is more significant than its operation in or in relation to works of art... in life what is important is the truth as it is, while in arts and letters what is important is truth as we see it.
Wallace Stevens
Exile desire For what is not. This is the barrenness Of the fertile thing that can attain no more.
Wallace Stevens
Next to love is the desire for love.
Wallace Stevens
All the great things have been denied and we live in an intricacy of new and local mythologies, political, economic, poetic, which are asserted with an ever-enlarging incoherence.
Wallace Stevens
The whole race is a poet that writes down The eccentric propositions of its fate.
Wallace Stevens
Poetry is a satifying of the desire for resemblance.
Wallace Stevens
How has the human spirit ever survived the terrific literature with which it has had to contend.
Wallace Stevens
We say God and the imagination are one.
Wallace Stevens
We agree in principle. That's clear.
Wallace Stevens
That's what misery is, Nothing to have at heart.
Wallace Stevens
And that's life, then: things as they are, This buzzing of the blue guitar.
Wallace Stevens
The best definition of true imagination is that it is the sum of our faculties. Poetry is the scholar's art.
Wallace Stevens
Beauty is momentary in the mind - The fitful tracing of a portal; But in the flesh it is immortal. The body dies; the body's beauty lives.
Wallace Stevens
The summer night is like a perfection of thought.
Wallace Stevens
I heard them cry - the peacocks. Was it a cry against the twilight Or against the leaves themselves.
Wallace Stevens
Soldier, there is a war between the mind And sky, between thought and day and night.
Wallace Stevens
These are not things transformed. Yet we are shaken by them as if they were.
Wallace Stevens
The casual is not Enough. The freshness of transformation is.
Wallace Stevens
The seraph Is satyr in Saturn, according to his thoughts.
Wallace Stevens
My candle burned alone in an immense valley. Beams of the huge night converged upon it, Until the wind blew.
Wallace Stevens
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