E.E. Cummings Quotes

Always it’s Spring)and everyone’s in love and flowers pick themselves.

As small as a world as large as alone.

Take the matter of being born. What does being born mean to most people?

I don't think that women necessarily always write like women. I was a writer on the Comedy Central Roasts for a while, and I always wrote the jokes that people assumed the men would write.

(and from my thighs which shrug and pant a murdering rain leapingly reaches the upward singular deepest flower which she carries in a gesture of her hips)

It may take two people to make a really beautiful mistake.

Bonkers doesn't go by the book-he doesn't even know there is a book.

Your slightest look easily will unclose me, though I have closed myself as fingers, you open petal by petal myself a Spring opens her first rose.

all by all and deep by deep and more by more they dream their sleep noone and anyone earth by april wish by spirit and if by yes

At least the Pilgrim Fathers used to shoot Indians: the Pilgrim Children merely punch time clocks.

...on forever's very now we stand.

The sensual mysticism of entire vertical being.

Nothing recedes like progress.

You could live in Winnipeg a thousand years and not meet Ringo, Paul McCartney, or Bob Dylan.

Tomorrow is our permanent address.

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond

The theory of the free press is not that the truth will be presented completely or perfectly in any one instance, but that the truth will emerge from free discussion

And the reason that i laugh and breathe is oh love

his lips drink water but his heart drinks wine

all ignorance toboggans into know and trudges up to ignorance again.

I guess the verdict is in - I am not a sociopath. It's not effective or productive not to be nice. It would undermine the goals I want to achieve on any given day.

Treat a man like dirt-he produces flowers.

Seeker of truth follow no path all paths lead where truth is here.

Meanwhile myself et cetera lay quietly in the deep mud et cetera (dreaming, et cetera, of your smile eyes knees and of your Etcetera.)

The only man, woman, or child who wrote a simple declarative sentence with seven grammatical errors "is dead."

You shall above all things be glad and young.

wholly to be a fool while Spring is in the world my blood approves, and kisses are a far better fate than wisdom lady i swear by all flowers.

notice the convulsed orange inch of moon perching on this silver minute of evening

Nobody loses all the time.

So far as I am concerned, poetry and every other art was, is, and forever will be strictly and distinctly a question of individuality.

Must's a schoolroom in the month of may

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility

O to be in finland/ now that russia's here)

Private property began the instant somebody had a mind of his own.

Nobody else can be alive for you; nor can you be alive for anybody else.

When god decided to invent everything he took one reath bigger than a circustent and everything began

Time cannot children,poets,lovers tell- measure imagine,mystery,a kiss -not though mankind would rather know than feel

So, when kiss Spring comes we'll kiss each kiss other on kiss the kiss lips because tic clocks tock don't make a toctic difference to kisskiss you and to kiss me.

It was to carry the American democratic journey beyond these failings that Black citizens and civil rights workers risked unemployment, violence and death.

African-American women account for 67 percent of all newly diagnosed female AIDS cases.

I am a Cajun Baby in a Texas girl, an all-American woman and a global goddess.

An artist, a man, a failure, must proceed.

Good evening, America. I'm a woman, and welcome to The Late Late Show.

who pays any attention to the syntax of things will never wholly kiss you

Progress is a comfortable disease.

Imagine working 20% smarter instead of 20% longer...Work-life balance and startup success at any stage aren't mutually exclusive. There are enough hours in the day to be effective and present.

And still the mad magnificent herald Spring assembles beauty from forgetfulness with the wild trump of April:witchery of sound and odour drives the wingless thing man forth in the bright air.

May my heart always be open to little birds, who are the secrets of living. Whatever they sing is better than to know. And if men should not hear them - then men are old.

The Cambridge ladies who live in furnished souls are unbeautiful and have comfortable minds.

Time's a strange fellow; more he gives than takes (and he takes all).