Death is the mother of Beauty hence from her, alone, shall come fulfillment to our dreams and our desires. – Wallace Stevens
Poor, dear, silly Spring, preparing her annual surprise! – Wallace Stevens
Death is the mother of Beauty hence from her, alone, shall come fulfillment to our dreams and our desires. – Wallace Stevens
Poor, dear, silly Spring, preparing her annual surprise! – Wallace Stevens
I do not know which to prefer, The beauty of inflections, Or the beauty of innuendoes, The blackbird whistling, Or just after. – Wallace Stevens
It is the unknown that excites the ardor of scholars, who, in the known alone, would shrivel up with boredom. – Wallace Stevens