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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
Small
Hands
Even
Rain
Nobody
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Really unreal world, will you perhaps do the breathing for me while I am away?
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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?
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Private property began the instant somebody had a mind of his own.
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the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses
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As small as a world as large as alone.
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When god decided to invent everything he took one reath bigger than a circustent and everything began
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(existing's tricky:but to live's a gift)
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The hardest fight a man has to fight is to live in a world where every single day someone is trying to make you someone you do not want to be--
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We do not believe in ourselves until someone reveals that deep inside us something is valuable, worth listening to, worthy of our trust, sacred to our touch. Once we believe in ourselves we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight or any experience that reveals the human spirit.
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A pretty girl who is naked / is worth a million statues
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It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.
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Because you aren't afraid to kiss the dirt (and consequently dare to climb the sky)
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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
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True wars are never won.
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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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and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you
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O sweet spontaneous earth
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Progress is a comfortable disease.
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Love is a place & through this place of love move (with brightness of peace) all places yes is a world & in this world of yes live (skillfully curled) all worlds
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Take the so-called standard of living. What do most people mean by living? They don’t mean living. They mean the latest and closest plural approximation to singular prenatal passivity which science, in its finite but unbounded wisdom, has succeeded in selling their wives.
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