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Death is the mother of Beauty hence from her, alone, shall come fulfillment to our dreams and our desires.

Wallace Stevens

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Wallace Stevens
Age: 75 †
Born: 1879
Born: October 2
Died: 1955
Died: August 2
Journalist
Lawyer
Playwright
Poet
Poet Lawyer
Writer
Hence
Death
Fulfillment
Mother
Desires
Dream
Dreams
Come
Shall
Alone
Beauty
Bereavement
Desire

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To lose sensibility, to see what one sees, As if sight had not its own miraculous thrift, To hear only what one hears, one meaning alone, As if the paradise of meaning ceased To be paradise, it is this to be destitute.
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Poetry is an abstraction bloodied.
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The sea Severs not only lands but also selves.
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The purpose of poetry is to make life complete in itself.
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In the same way, you were happy in spring, With the half colors of quarter-things, The slightly brighter sky, the melting clouds, The single bird, the obscure moon- The obscure moon lighting an obscure world Of thing that would never be quite expressed, Where you yourself were never quite yourself And did not want nor have to be.
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The wind, Tempestuous clarion, with heavy cry, Came bluntly thundering, more terrible Than the revenge of music on bassoons.
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God and the imagination are one.
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I can't make head or tail of Life. Love is a fine thing, Art is a fine thing, Nature is a fine thing but the average human mind and spirit are confusing beyond measure. Sometimes I think that all our learning is the little learning of the maxim. To laugh at a Roman awe-stricken in a sacred grove is to laugh at something today.
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The figures of the past go cloaked. They walk in mist and rain and snow And go, go slowly, but they go.
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The house was quiet and the world was calm. The reader became the book.
Wallace Stevens
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Life consists Of propositions about life. The human Revery is a solitude in which We compose these propositions, torn by dreams, By the terrible incantations of defeats And by the fear that the defeats and the dreams are one. The whole race is a poet that writes down The eccentric propositions of its fate.
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Disillusion is the last illusion.
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Why should she give her bounty to the dead? What is divinity if it can come Only in silent shadows and in dreams?
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Two things of opposite natures seem to depend / One on another, as Logos depends / On Eros, day on night, the imagined On the real. / This is the origin of change.
Wallace Stevens
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The life of the city never lets you go, nor do you ever want it to.
Wallace Stevens
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I was the world in which I walked.
Wallace Stevens
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The physical world is meaningless tonight And there is no other.
Wallace Stevens
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I am the truth, since I am part of what is real, but neither more nor less than those around me.
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Intolerance respecting other people's religion is toleration itself in comparison with intolerance respecting other people's art.
Wallace Stevens
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The reading of a poem should be an experience. Its writing must be all the more so.
Wallace Stevens