Wallace Stevens Quotes

If only he would not pity us so much, Weaken our fate, relieve us of woe both great And small, a constant fellow of destiny, A too, too human god, self-pity's kin And uncourageous genesis . . .
Wallace Stevens (1879-1955), U.S. poet. "Esthétique du Mal."
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Snow sparkles like eyesight falling to earth, Like seeing fallen brightly away.
Wallace Stevens (1879-1955), U.S. poet. No Possum, No Sop, No Taters (l. 10-11). . . Collected Poems [Stevie Smith]. James MacGibbon, ed. (1976) New Directions.
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Does ripe fruit never fall?
Wallace Stevens (1879-1955), U.S. poet. Sunday Morning (l. 77). . . Collected Poems [Stevie Smith]. James MacGibbon, ed. (1976) New Directions.
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Capitán profundo, capitán geloso, Ask us not to sing standing in the sun, Hairy-backed and hump-armed, Flat-ribbed and big-bagged.
Wallace Stevens (1879-1955), U.S. poet. "The Revolutionists Stop for Orangeade."
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Perhaps it is of more value to infuriate philosophers than to go along with them.
Wallace Stevens (1879-1955), U.S. poet. "Adagia," Opus Posthumous (1959).
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Sad men made angels of the sun, and of The moon they made their own attendant ghosts, Which led them back to angels, after death.
Wallace Stevens (1879-1955), U.S. poet. "Evening Without Angels."
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It is deep January. The sky is hard. The stalks are firmly rooted in ice.
Wallace Stevens (1879-1955), British poet. No Possum, No Sop, No Taters (l. 13-14). . . Collected Poems [Stevie Smith]. James MacGibbon, ed. (1976) New Directions.
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She hears, upon that water without sound, A voice that cries, "The tomb in Palestine Is not the porch of spirits lingering. It is the grave of Jesus, where he lay."
Wallace Stevens (1879-1955), U.S. poet. Sunday Morning (l. 106-109). . . Collected Poems [Stevie Smith]. James MacGibbon, ed. (1976) New Directions.
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There is a great river this side of Stygia,
Wallace Stevens (1879-1955), U.S. poet. The River of Rivers in Connecticut (l. 1). . . Collected Poems [Stevie Smith]. James MacGibbon, ed. (1976) New Directions.
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Nothing could be more inappropriate to American literature than its English source since the Americans are not British in sensibility.
Wallace Stevens (1879-1955), U.S. poet. "Adagia," Opus Posthumous (1959).
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