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At least the Pilgrim Fathers used to shoot Indians: the Pilgrim Children merely punch time clocks.
e. e. cummings
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e. e. cummings
Age: 67 †
Born: 1894
Born: October 14
Died: 1962
Died: September 3
Novelist
Painter
Playwright
Poet
Writer
Cambridge
Massachusetts
e. e. cummings
Edward Estlin Cummings
E. Estlin Cummings
e e cummings
EE cummings
Edward Eatlin Cummings
Time
Clock
Indian
Merely
Clocks
Least
Pilgrim
Father
Punch
Used
Indians
America
Fathers
Children
Shoot
More quotes by e. e. cummings
great men burn bridges before they come to them
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Who knows if the moon's / a balloon, coming out of a keen city / in the sky - filled with pretty people?
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Be of love a little more careful than of anything.
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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.
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there's time for laughing and there's time for crying— for hoping for despair for peace for longing —a time for growing and a time for dying: a night for silence and a day for singing but more than all(as all your more than eyes tell me)there is a time for timelessness
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Life ,for eternal us,is now
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You shall above all things be glad and young.
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...sunlight is (life and day are)only loaned:whereas night is given(night and death and the rain are givenand given is how beautifully snow)
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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.
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in the street of the sky night walks scattering poems
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We can never be born enough.
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An artist, a man, a failure, must proceed.
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I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing than to teach ten thousand stars how not to dance.
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Damn everything but the circus! ...damn everything that is grim, dull, motionless, unrisking, inward turning, damn everything that won't get into the circle, that won't enjoy. That won't throw it's heart into the tension, surprise, fear and delight of the circus, the round world, the full existence.
e. e. cummings
twice I have lived forever in a smile
e. e. cummings
the moon rattles like a fragment of angry candy
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The mind is its own beautiful prisoner. Mind looked long at the sticky moon opening in dusk her new wings then decently hanged himself,one afternoon. The last thing he saw was you naked amid unnaked things.
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I spill my bright incalculable soul
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The world is mud-luscious and puddle-wonderful.
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i do not know what it is about you that closes and opensonly something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses
e. e. cummings
