Perhaps the truth depends on a walk around the lake.
Wallace StevensI placed a jar in Tennessee and round it
was upon a hill.
I am the truth, since I am part of what is real, but neither more nor less than those around me.
Wallace StevensTags: truth
I do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of inflections
Or the beauty of innuendos
The blackbird whistling
Or just after.
Tags: poetry
Poetry is an abstraction bloodied.
Wallace StevensTags: poetry
After the leaves have fallen, we return
To a plain sense of things. It is as if
We had come to an end of the imagination,
Inanimate in an inert savoir.
Tags: poetry
Poetry is the scholar's art.
Wallace StevensTags: poetry
Beneath every no lays a passion for yes that had never been broken.
Wallace StevensThe mind can never be satisfied.
Wallace StevensTags: mind
A violent order is disorder; and a great disorder is an order.
These two things are one.
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