(1879–1955)
U.S. poet
Wallace Stevens
Once as I looked up I saw a big, pure drop of rain slip from leaf to leaf of a clematis vine. The thought occurred to me that it was just such quick, unexpected, commonplace, specific things that poets and other observers jot down in their note-books.
Journal entry dated July 18, 1899, in The Letters of Wallace Stevens (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1966), 29.