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I am the angel of Reality, Seen for a moment standing in the door.

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
Angel
Door
Standing
Doors
Seen
Moment
Moments
Reality

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Life is not free from its forms.
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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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Just as my fingers on these keys make music, so the self-same sounds on my spirit make a music too.
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My tribute to mystical, magical trees that the Cherokee called standing people. . . .
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Poetry is the scholar's art.
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The only emperor is the emperor of ice cream.
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Everything possessed the power to transform itself, or else, and what meant more, to be transformed.
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Tinsel in February, tinsel in August. There are things in a man besides his reason.
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Key West, unfortunately, is becoming rather literary and artistic.
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God is in me or else is not at all.
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Poetry is a response to the daily necessity of getting the world right.
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I certainly do not exist from nine to six, when I am at the office.
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Death is the mother of Beauty hence from her, alone, shall come fulfillment to our dreams and our desires.
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Success as a result of industry is a peasant's ideal.
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Beneath every no lays a passion for yes that had never been broken.
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On a few words of what is real in the world I nourish myself. I defend myself against Whatever remains.
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The mind is the great poem of winter, the man, Who, to find what will suffice, Destroys romantic tenements Of rose and ice.
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We say God and the imagination are one... How high that highest candle lights the dark.
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Next to love is the desire for love.
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The imperfect is our paradise. Note that, in this bitterness, delight, Since the imperfect is so hot in us, Lies in flawed words and stubborn sounds.
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