exiled spirits, red as the spotless toe of a seraph spread…

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

— Stephane Mallarme

Everything that is sacred and that wishes to remain so must envelop itself in mystery.

— Stephane Mallarme

The world exists to end up in a book.

— Stephane Mallarme

Yes, I know, we are merely empty forms of matter, but we are indeed sublime in having invented God and our soul. So sublime,…

— Stephane Mallarme

It is in front of the the paper that the artist creates himself.

— Stephane Mallarme

As for me, Poetry takes the place of love, because it is enamored of itself, and because this self-lust has a delightful dying fall…

— Stephane Mallarme

A throw of the dice will never abolish chance.

— Stephane Mallarme

The reproach that superficial people formulate against Manet, that whereas once he painted ugliness, now he paints vulgarity, falls harmlessly to the ground, when…

— Stephane Mallarme

“...for we are always at one with the instrument of our magic spells.”

— Stéphane Mallarmé

O naked flower of my lips, you lie! I await a thing unknown or perhaps, unaware of the mystery and your cries you give,…

— Stephane Mallarme

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

— Stephane Mallarme

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…

— Stephane Mallarme

I have made a long enough descent into the void to speak with certainty. There is nothing but beauty--and beauty has only one perfect…

— Stephane Mallarme

Dreams have as much influence as actions.

— Stephane Mallarme

“I go to see the shadow you have become.”

— Stéphane Mallarmé