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The yellow glistens. It glistens with various yellows, Citrons, oranges and greens Flowering over the skin.

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
Skin
Skins
Yellows
Various
Glisten
Oranges
Greens
Flowering
Orange
Yellow

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Beneath every no lays a passion for yes that had never been broken.
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in the presence of extraordinary actuality, consciousness takes the place of imagination.
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The reader became the book and summer night Was like the conscious being of the book.
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It is time that beats in the breast and it is time That batters against the mind, silent and proud, The mind that knows it is destroyed by time.
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Style is not something applied. It is something that permeates. It is of the nature of that in which it is found, whether the poem, the manner of a god, the bearing of a man. It is not a dress.
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The imagination is one of the forces of nature.
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Music falls on the silence like a sense / A passion that we feel, not understand.
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God is in me or else is not at all.
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Union of the weakest develops strength not wisdom. Can all men, together, avenge one of the leaves that have fallen in autumn? But the wise man avenges by building his city in snow.
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Reality is not what it is. It consists of the many realities which it can be made into.
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The summer night is like a perfection of thought.
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Unless we believe in the hero, what is there To believe? Incisive what, the fellow Of what good. Devise. Make him of mud.
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There's no such thing as life or if there is, It is faster than the weather, faster than Any character. It is more than any scene: Of the guillotine or of any glamorous hanging.
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The great poems of heaven and hell have been written and the great poem of earth remains to be written.
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The exceeding brightness of this early sun Makes me conceive how dark I have become.
Wallace Stevens
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At the sight of blackbirds Flying in a green light, Even the bawds of euphony Would cry out sharply.
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What our eyes behold may well be the text of life but one's meditations on the text and the disclosures of these meditations are no less a part of the structure of reality.
Wallace Stevens
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An old argument with me is that the true religious force in the world is not the church, but the world itself: the mysterious callings of Nature and our responses.
Wallace Stevens
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Of what is real I say, Is it the old, the roseate parent or The bride come jingling, kissed and cupped, or else The spirit and all ensigns of the self?
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It's not always easy to tell the difference between thinking and looking out of the window.
Wallace Stevens