Wallace Stevens

1879 - 1955

A Quote by Wallace Stevens

At the sight of blackbirds Flying in a green light, Even the bawds of euphony Would cry out sharply.

Wallace Stevens (1879 - 1955)

Source: Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird, 1923

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by Wallace Stevens on feeling, heart, joy, life, love, magic, passion, and words

edward estlin cummings oh, my heart leaps: born cambridge, MA 105 years ago harvard paris 900 poems... ingenuity. Arranging feelings; words; syllables; punctuation on paper a celebration of magic love passion Godsky life OH joy of being alive! sweetness thank You.

Wallace Stevens (1879 - 1955)

Source: e.e. cummings celebration

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by Wallace Stevens on future and world

After the final no there comes a yes and on that yes the future of the world depends.

Wallace Stevens (1879 - 1955)

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by Wallace Stevens on ideas and world

All of our ideas come from the natural world: trees equal umbrellas.

Wallace Stevens (1879 - 1955)

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by Wallace Stevens on life, people, and trouble

Life is an affair of people not of places. But for me, life is an affair of places and that is the trouble.

Wallace Stevens (1879 - 1955)

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by Wallace Stevens on darkness, fighting, friendship, heart, honesty, justice, pain, peace, promises, tears, and words

LIGHT FROM WITHIN my friend, cancer got you damn it: you had it beat for seven years at least. how did it come back? Why all that pain. again. and you, such a fighter you fought me over and over with tears and words and promises. you fought for me with honesty and a light so bright it hurts my heart. sweet lorna. at peace now finally no more battles, just light from within a flickering candle in the dark burns with you.

Wallace Stevens (1879 - 1955)

Source: Light From Within

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by Wallace Stevens on day, justice, magic, motherhood, pain, peace, tenderness, and words

Like the Sweetness of Gardenias Mother, you died 15 years ago. pain, a rapier, cut until, finally, there was just peace like the sweetness of gardenias in the crystal vase on your yellow kitchen table. so fragrant. your voice lingers in my ear reminding, scolding, guiding a pleasant mantra of tenderness, magic words that move my palms, your palms. together we are molding, helping, creating. in the mirror I see your eyes, your beautiful brown circles looking back, so radiant. "don't forget me," you whispered the day you died. I won't.

Wallace Stevens (1879 - 1955)

Source: Like the Sweetness of Gardenias

Contributed by: Zaady

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