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one pierced moment whiter than the rest -turning from the tremendous lie of sleep i watch the roses of the day grow deep.
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
Grows
Tremendous
Sleep
Turning
Lying
Rose
Moment
Watches
Moments
Watch
Deep
Whiter
Grow
Pierced
Rest
Roses
More quotes by e. e. cummings
Really unreal world, will you perhaps do the breathing for me while I am away?
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Buffalo Bill's defunct who used to ride a watersmooth-silver stallion and break onetwothreefourfive pigeonsjustlikethat Jesus he was a handsome man and what i want to know is how do you like your blueeyed boy Mister Death
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What concerns me fundamentaly is a meteoric burlesk melodrama, born of the immemorial adage love will find a way.
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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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There is no music unless the drum and the drummer are one.
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Because you aren't afraid to kiss the dirt (and consequently dare to climb the sky)
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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.
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Spring is like a perhaps hand
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in the street of the sky night walks scattering poems
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the moon rattles like a fragment of angry candy
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Do not hate or fear the artist in yourselves... Honor and love him...do not try to possess him. Trust him as nobly as you trust tomorrow. Only the artist in yourself is more truthful than the night.
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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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We can never be born enough.
e. e. cummings
somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
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
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Progress is a comfortable disease.
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Only by you my heart always moves.
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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.
e. e. cummings
Meanwhile myself et cetera lay quietly in the deep mud et cetera (dreaming, et cetera, of your smile eyes knees and of your Etcetera.)
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The sweet small clumsy feet of april came into the ragged meadow of my soul.
e. e. cummings
