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If ever the search for a tranquil belief should end, The future might stop emerging out of the past, Out of what is full of us yet the search And the future emerging out of us seem to be one.
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
Ever
Seem
Might
Full
Stop
Belief
Future
Ends
Tranquil
Past
Emerging
Seems
Search
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That tuft of jungle feathers, That animal eye, Is just what you say. That savage of fire, That seed, Have it your way. The world is ugly, And the people are sad.
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The mind is smaller than the eye.
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To live in the world but outside of existing conceptions of it.
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We live in an old chaos of the sun.
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Poetry is a finikin thing of air That lives uncertainly and not for long Yet radiantly beyond much lustier blurs.
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As life grows more terrible, its literature grows more terrible.
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Music falls on the silence like a sense / A passion that we feel, not understand.
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Imagination...is the irrepressible revolutionist.
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It was autumn and falling stars Covered the shrivelled forms Crouched in the moonlight.
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Next to love is the desire for love.
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The world about us would be desolate except for the world within us.
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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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It is not everyday that the world arranges itself into a poem.
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God is gracious to some very peculiar people.
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The night Makes everything grotesque. Is it because Night is the nature of man's interior world?
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