Death is the mother of Beauty hence from her, alone, shall come fulfillment to our dreams and our desires. – Wallace Stevens
All the great things have been denied and we live in an intricacy of new and local mythologies, political, economic, poetic, which are asserted with an ever-enlarging incoherence. – Wallace Stevens
Most people read poetry listening for echoes because the echoes are familiar to them. They wade through it the way a boy wades through water, feeling with his toes for the bottom: The echoes are the bottom. – Wallace Stevens
Intolerance respecting other peoples religion is toleration itself in comparison with intolerance respecting other peoples art. – Wallace Stevens