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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
Grow
Pierced
Rest
Roses
Grows
Tremendous
Sleep
Turning
Lying
Rose
Moment
Watches
Moments
Watch
Deep
Whiter
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An intelligent person fights for lost causes, realizing that others are merely effects
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It may take two people to make a really beautiful mistake.
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True wars are never won.
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We can never be born enough.
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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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our can'ts were born to happen our mosts have died in more
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the other guineahen died of a broken heart and we came to New York. I used to sit at a table,drawing wings with a pencil that kept breaking and i kept remembering how your mind looked when it slept for several years,to wake up asking why. So then you turned into a photograph of somebody who’s trying not to laugh at somebody who’s trying not to cry
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It is with roses and locomotives (not to mention acrobats Spring electricity Coney Island the 4th of July the eyes of mice and Niagara Falls) that my poems are competing.
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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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in the street of the sky night walks scattering poems
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At least the Pilgrim Fathers used to shoot Indians: the Pilgrim Children merely punch time clocks.
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...and down they forgot as up they grew.
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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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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.
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You and I are more than you and I because it's we.
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nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands
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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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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.
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Kisses are a better fate than wisdom.
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Exists no miracle mightier than this: to feel.
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