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nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands
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
Nobody
Small
Hands
Even
Rain
More quotes by e. e. cummings
Every artist's strictly illimitable country is himself. An artist who plays that country false has committed suicide and even a good lawyer cannot kill the dead. But a human being who's true to himself - whoever himself may be - is immortal and all the atomic bombs of all the antiartists in spacetime will never civilize immortality.
e. e. cummings
for whenever men are right they are not young
e. e. cummings
in the street of the sky night walks scattering poems
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When god decided to invent everything he took one reath bigger than a circustent and everything began
e. e. cummings
O sweet spontaneous earth
e. e. cummings
more each particular person is(my love) alive than every world can understand and now you are and i am now and we're a mystery that will never happen again, a miracle which has never happened before and shining this our now must come to then
e. e. cummings
There is no music unless the drum and the drummer are one.
e. e. cummings
An intelligent person fights for lost causes, realizing that others are merely effects
e. e. cummings
somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
e. e. cummings
Spring is like a perhaps hand
e. e. cummings
You have played, (I think) And broke the toys you were fondest of, And are a little tired now Tired of things that break, and— Just tired. So am I.
e. e. cummings
Love is the voice under all silences, the hope which has no opposite in fear the strength so strong mere force is feebleness: the truth more first than sun, more last than star.
e. e. cummings
guilt is the cause of more marauders than history's most obscene disauders
e. e. cummings
-Before leaving my room i turn, and (stooping through the morning) kiss this pillow, dear where our heads lived and were.
e. e. cummings
O sweet spontaneous earth how often has the naughty thumb of science prodded thy beauty thou answereth them only with spring.
e. e. cummings
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?
e. e. cummings
it's no use trying to pretend that mostpeople and ourselves are alike. Mostpeople have less in common with ourselves than thesquarerootofminusone. You and I are human beings mostpeople are snobs.
e. e. cummings
Because you aren't afraid to kiss the dirt (and consequently dare to climb the sky)
e. e. cummings
If 180 million people want to be undead, that’s their funeral, but I happen to like being alive.
e. e. cummings
(existing's tricky:but to live's a gift)
e. e. cummings