Wallace Stevens, The Palm At The End Of The Mind: Selected Poems And A Play Quotes
The exceeding brightness of this early sunMakes me conceive how dark I have become.
After the leaves have fallen, we returnTo a plain sense of things. It is as ifWe had come to an end of the imagination, Inanimate in an inert savoir.
A pear should come to the table popped with juice, Ripened in warmth and served in warmth. On termsLike these, autumn beguiles the fatalist.
From oriole to crow, note the declineIn music. Crow is realist. But, then, Oriole, also, may be realist.
We say God and the imagination are one . . .How high that highest candle lights the dark.
Poetry is a finikin thing of airThat lives uncertainly and not for longYet radiantly beyond much lustier blurs.