It is the unknown that excites the ardor of scholars, who, in the known alone, would shrivel up with boredom. – Wallace Stevens
Poor, dear, silly Spring, preparing her annual surprise! – Wallace Stevens

It is the unknown that excites the ardor of scholars, who, in the known alone, would shrivel up with boredom. – Wallace Stevens
Poor, dear, silly Spring, preparing her annual surprise! – Wallace Stevens
Most people read poetry listening for echoes because the echoes are familiar to them. They wade through it the way a boy wades through water, feeling with his toes for the bottom: The echoes are the bottom. – Wallace Stevens
A poem need not have a meaning and like most things in nature often does not have. – Wallace Stevens