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Wallace Stevens

Wallace Stevens Quotes

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Famous Wallace Stevens Quotes

“Trees Trees, proud standing people stretching fingertips to the sky, reaching, praying glorious attention, breathing light. strength shelter timeless confidence bending and firm comforting rooted chorus line dancing with the moon, the wind, the clouds framing bursts of stars tender rugged celebration absorbing and releasing life each holy branch holding the power of the Universe. There.”

PeopleLightUniverseStarsLinesAttentionPowerTreeSkyWindProudPrayingHolyMoonStandingDancingCloudsBreathingFirmGloriousBranchesReachingCelebrationRootedShelterTimelessComfortingStretchingChorusAbsorbingFingertipsBendingRuggedFramingChorus Line
Author:Wallace Stevens
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“One must have a mind of winter to regard the frost and the boughs of the pine trees, crusted with snow, And have been cold a long time, to behold the junipers, shagged with ice, the spruces, rough in the distant glitter of the January sun, and not to think of any misery in the sound of the wind, in the sound of a few leaves, which is the sound of the land, full of the same wind, blowing in the same bare place for the listener, who listens in the snow, and, nothing herself, beholds nothing that is not there, and the nothing that is.”

ThinkingMindLongHas BeensTimeSoundSunTreeLandWindColdLong TimeRegardMiseryWinterSnowIceRoughListenersJanuaryFrostGlitterPine TreesWind Blowing
Book:The Palm at the End of the Mind: Selected Poems and a Play
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“The leaves hop, scraping on the ground. 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.”

HardSoundSkySolitudeWinterIceEmptinessHopsRootedHollowJanuaryStalkingSyllablesScraping
Book:The Palm at the End of the Mind: Selected Poems and a Play
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“I thought how utterly we have forsaken the Earth, in the sense of excluding it from our thoughts. There are but few who consider its physical hugeness, its rough enormity. It is still a disparate monstrosity, full of solitudes, barrens, wilds. It still dwarfs, terrifies, crushes. The rivers still roar, the mountains still crash, the winds still shatter. Man is an affair of cities. His gardens, orchards and fields are mere scrapings. Somehow, however, he has managed to shut out the face of the giant from his windows. But the giant is there, nevertheless.”

MenStillsEarthFacesCitiesFieldsWindSolitudeMountainGardenRiversWindowMereAffairGiantsCrushRoughCrashNeverthelessOur ThoughtsDwarfsForsakenOrchardMonstrosityScraping
Author:Wallace Stevens
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