Quote

The chrysanthemums' astringent fragrance comes Each year to disguise the clanking mechanism Of machine within machine within machine.

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
Machine
Machines
Year
Within
Comes
Chrysanthemums
Nature
Fragrance
Years
Disguise
Mechanism

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Complacencies of the peignoir, and late Coffee and oranges in a sunny chair. And the green freedom of a cockatoo Upon a rug mingle to dissipate The holy hush of ancient sacrifice
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The point of vision and desire are the same.
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Fromage and coffee and cognac and no gods.
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Tell X that speech is not dirty silence Clarified. It is silence made still dirtier.
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The figures of the past go cloaked. They walk in mist and rain and snow And go, go slowly, but they go.
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To lose sensibility, to see what one sees, As if sight had not its own miraculous thrift, To hear only what one hears, one meaning alone, As if the paradise of meaning ceased To be paradise, it is this to be destitute.
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Disillusion is the last illusion.
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Thought is an infection. In the case of certain thoughts, it becomes an epidemic.
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Out of this same light, out of the central mind, We make a dwelling in the evening air, In which being there together is enough.
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They said, 'You have a blue guitar, / You do not play things as they are.' / The man replied, 'Things as they are / Are changed upon the blue guitar.'
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I am the truth, since I am part of what is real, but neither more nor less than those around me.
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We must endure our thoughts all night, until the bright obvious stands motionless in the cold.
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Unfortunately there is nothing more inane than an Easter carol. It is a religious perversion of the activity of Spring in our blood.
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God and the imagination are one.
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Poetry is poetry, and one's objective as a poet is to achieve poetry precisely as one's objective in music is to achieve music.
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We say This changes and that changes. Thus the constant Violets, doves, girls, bees and hyacinths Are inconstant objects of inconstant cause In a universe of inconstancy.
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True villains are extremely photogenic.
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Conceptions are artificial. Perceptions are essential.
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Everything is complicated if that were not so, life and poetry and everything else would be a bore.
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