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The prologues are over. It is a question, now, Of final belief. So, say that final belief Must be in a fiction. It is time to choose.

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
Finals
Choose
Fiction
Question
Belief
Must
Prologue
Time
Final

More quotes by Wallace Stevens

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Spread outward. Crack the round dome. Break through. Have liberty not as the air within a grave Or down a well. Breathe freedom, oh, my native, In the space of horizons that neither love nor hate.
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It may be that the ignorant man, alone, Has any chance to mate his life with life That is the sensual, pearly spouse, the life That is fluent in even the wintriest bronze.
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The genuine artist is never 'true to life.' He sees what is real, but not as we are normally aware of it. We do not go storming through life like actors in a play. Art is never real life.
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The day of the sun is like the day of a king. It is a promenade in the morning, a sitting on the throne at noon, a pageant in the evening.
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Key West, unfortunately, is becoming rather literary and artistic.
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Tell X that speech is not dirty silence Clarified. It is silence made still dirtier.
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Man is an eternal sophomore.
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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.
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The old brown hen and the old blue sky, Between the two we live and die The broken cartwheel on the hill.
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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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Death is the mother of Beauty hence from her, alone, shall come fulfillment to our dreams and our desires.
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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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Style is not something applied. It is something that permeates.
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The word is the making of the world
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God is gracious to some very peculiar people.
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I am what is around me.
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Imagination...is the irrepressible revolutionist.
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All of our ideas come from the natural world: trees equal umbrellas.
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After the final no there comes a yes And on that yes the future world depends.
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The river is moving. The blackbird must be flying.
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