E.E. Cummings Quotes
when man determined to destroy himself he picked the was of shall and finding only why smashed it into because.
Whatever's merely willful, and not miraculous (be never it so skilful) must wither fail and cease - but better than to grow beauty knows no.
Let must or if be damned with whomever's afraid down with ought with because with every brain which thinks it thinks, nor dares to feel.
one pierced moment whiter than the rest -turning from the tremendous lie of sleep i watch the roses of the day grow deep.
one day anyone died i guess (and noone stooped to kiss his face) busy folk buried them side by side little by little and was by was
someones married their everyones laughed their cryings and did their dance (sleep wake hope and then) they said their nevers they slept their dream
that strictly(and how)scienti fic land of supernod where freedom is compulsory and only man is god.
The intellectuals' chief cause of anguish are one another's works. Jacques Barzun, 1959 all ignorance toboggans into know and trudges up to ignorance again.
anyone lived in a pretty how town (with up so floating many bells down) spring summer autumn winter he sang his didn't he danced his did.
All which isn't singing is mere talking... and all talking's to oneself alone but the very song of (as mountains feel and lovers) singing is silence.
a man who had fallen among thieves lay by the roadside on his back dressed in fifteenthrate ideas wearing a round jeer for a hat
What concerns me fundamentaly is a meteoric burlesk melodrama, born of the immemorial adage love will find a way.
how should tasting touching hearing seeing breathing any lifted from the no of all nothing human merely being doubt unimaginable You?
what if a much of a which of a wind gives the truth to summer's lie; bloodies with dizzying leaves the sun and yanks immortal stars awry?
my mother hoped that i would die etcetera bravely of course my father used to become hoarse talking about how it was a privilege and if only he could
love being such, or such, the normal corners of your heart will never guess how much my wonderful jealousy is dark
Like the burlesque comedian, I am abnormally fond of that precision which creates movement.
If at the end of your first ten or fifteen years of fighting and working and feeling, you find you've written one line of one poem, you'll be very lucky indeed.
i remember we all cried like the Missouri when my Uncle Sol's coffin lurched because somebody pressed a button (and down went my uncle Sol and started a worm farm)
If 180 million people want to be undead, that’s their funeral, but I happen to like being alive.
Writingis an art; and artistsare human beings. As a human being stands, so a human being is
Seeming's enough for slaves of space and time - ours is the now and here of freedom. Come.
May my mind stroll about hungry and fearless and thirsty and supple and even if its sunday may i be wrong for whenever men are right they are not young
...sunlight is (life and day are)only loaned:whereas night is given(night and death and the rain are given;and given is how beautifully snow)
the poems to come are for you and for me and are not for mostpeople... you and i are human beings; mostpeople are snobs.
All you have to do is follow the money and if you follow the money, it leads right back to Donald Trump's pockets.