Stéphane Mallarmé Quotes

In reading, a lonely quiet concert is given to our minds; all our mental faculties will be present in this symphonic exaltation.

No more, I must sleep, forgetting the outrage, On the thirsty sand lying, and as I delight Open my mouth to wine's potent star! Adieu, both! I shall see the shade you became.

To define is to kill. To suggest is to create.

Tout, au monde, existe pour aboutir à un livre

Tei qu’en Lui-même enfin l’éternité le change

A soul trembling to sit by a hearth so bright,
To exist again, it’s enough if I borrow from
Your lips the breath of my name you murmur all night.

Everything in the world exists in order to end up as a book.

Are you a living princess or her shadow? Let me kiss your fingers and their rings, and bid you Walk no longer in an unknown age...

I am alone in my monotonous country, While all those around me live in the idolatry Of a mirror reflecting in its depths serene Herodiade, whose gaze is diamond keen ... O final enchantment! yes, I sense it, I am alone.

Verse is everywhere in language where there is rhythm, everywhere, except in notices and on page four of the papers. In the genre called prose, there are verses [...] of all rhythms. But in truth there is no prose: there is the alphabet, and then verses more or less tight, more or less diffuse.

Everything in the world exists to end up in a book.

Were it not, such short tresses so great a treasure,
That you teach me a sweetness, quite other,
Soft through the kiss murmured only in your hair.

Ah well, towards happiness others will lead me With their tresses knotted to the horns of my brow: You know, my passion, that purple and just ripe, The pomegranates burst and murmur with bees; And our blood, aflame for her who will take it, Flows for all the eternal swarm of desire.

The flesh is sad, alas, and I have read all the books.

Your very natural and clear childlike laughter that charms the air,