Poetry is a manikin thing of Aretha lives uncertainly and not for long Yet radiantly beyond much lustier blurs.

— Wallace Stevens

Poetry is an abstraction bloodied.

— Wallace Stevens

Poetry is the scholar's art.

— Wallace Stevens

Poor, dear, silly Spring, preparing her annual surprise!

— Wallace Stevens

Reality is a cliché from which we escape by metaphor.

— Wallace Stevens

The day of the sun is like the day of a king. It is a promenade in the morning, a sitting on the throne at noon, a pageant in the evening.

— Wallace Stevens

The death of one god is the death of all.

— Wallace Stevens

The exceeding brightness of this early unmakes me conceive how dark I have become.

— Wallace Stevens

The final belief is to believe in a fiction, which you know to be a fiction, there being nothing else. The exquisite truth is to know that it is a fiction and that you believe in it willingly.

— Wallace Stevens

The imagination is man's power over nature.

— Wallace Stevens