A poem need not have a meaning and like most things in nature often does not have. (Wallace Stevens)
New York is a field of tireless and antagonistic interests undoubtedly fascinating but horribly unreal. Everybody is looking at everybody else a foolish crowd walking on mirrors. (Wallace Stevens)
Democritus plucked his eye out because he could not look at a woman without thinking of her as a woman. If he had read a few of our novels, he would have torn himself to pieces. (Wallace Stevens)
The genuine artist is never "true to life." He sees what is real, but not as we are normally aware of it. We do not go storming through life like actors in a play. Art is never real life. (Wallace Stevens)
Everything possessed the power to transform itself, or else, and what meant more, to be transformed. (Wallace Stevens)
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. (Wallace Stevens)
Thought is an infection. In the case of certain thoughts, it becomes an epidemic. (Wallace Stevens)
It was evening all afternoon. It was snowing And it was going to snow. The blackbird sat In the cedarlimbs. (Wallace Stevens)
A poet looks at the world as a man looks at a woman. (Wallace Stevens)
It can never be satisfied, the mind, never. (Wallace Stevens)