Quote

Music falls on the silence like a sense / A passion that we feel, not understand.

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
Music
Feel
Feels
Falls
Like
Silence
Passion
Understand
Fall
Sense

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Thought is an infection. In the case of certain thoughts, it becomes an epidemic.
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I placed a jar in Tennessee, And round it was, upon a hill. It made the slovenly wilderness Surround that hill.
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If sex were all, then every trembling hand Could make us squeak, like dolls, the wished-for words.
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Tinsel in February, tinsel in August. There are things in a man besides his reason.
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Poetry increases the feeling for reality.
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It has to be living, to learn the speech of the place, It has to face the man of the time.
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One sparrow is worth a thousand gulls, When it sings. The gull sits on chimney-tops. He mocks the guinea, challenges The crow, inciting various modes. The sparrow requites one, without intent.
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Death is the mother of beauty. Only the perishable can be beautiful, which is why we are unmoved by artificial flowers.
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If the hero is not a person, the emblem Of him, even if Xenophon, seems To stand taller than a person stands, has A wider brow, large and less human Eyes and bruted ears: the man-like body Of a primitive.
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The imagination is the liberty of the mind It is intrpeid and eager and the extreme of its achievement lies in abstraction.
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And what's above is in the past As sure as all the angels are.
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The imagination loses vitality as it ceases to adhere to what is real.
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Everything possessed the power to transform itself, or else, and what meant more, to be transformed.
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How full of trifles everything is! It is only one's thoughts that fill a room with something more than furniture.
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A pear should come to the table popped with juice, Ripened in warmth and served in warmth. On terms Like these, autumn beguiles the fatalist.
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Words of the world are the life of the world.
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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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Life's nonsense pierces us with strange relation.
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The magnificent cause of being, The imagination, the one reality In this imagined world.
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The imagination is man's power over nature.
Wallace Stevens