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Let must or if be damned with whomever's afraid down with ought with because with every brain which thinks it thinks, nor dares to feel.
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
Must
Dares
Feels
Damned
Every
Dare
Thinking
Thinks
Afraid
Ought
Brain
Feel
Whomever
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nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands
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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.
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maybe god is a child ‘s hand)very carefully bring -ing to you and to me(and quite with out crushing)the papery weightless diminutive world with a hole in it out of which demons with wings would be streaming if something had(maybe they couldn’t agree)not happened(and floating- ly int o
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I will take the sun in my mouth and leap into the ripe air Alive with closed eyes to dash against darkness
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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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The Artist is no other than he who unlearns what he has learned, in order to know himself.
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No evil is so worse than worst you fall in hate with love.
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And still the mad magnificent herald Spring assembles beauty from forgetfulness with the wild trump of April:witchery of sound and odour drives the wingless thing man forth in the bright air.
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Kisses are a better fate than wisdom.
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At least the Pilgrim Fathers used to shoot Indians: the Pilgrim Children merely punch time clocks.
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Someone asked me what home was and all I could think of were the stars on the tip of your tongue, the flowers sprouting from your mouth, the roots entwined in the gaps between your fingers, the ocean echoing inside of your ribcage.
e. e. cummings
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
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
-Before leaving my room i turn, and (stooping through the morning) kiss this pillow, dear where our heads lived and were.
e. e. cummings
i remember we all cried like the Missouri when my Uncle Sol's coffin lurched because somebody pressed a button (and down went my uncle Sol and started a worm farm)
e. e. cummings
I spill my bright incalculable soul
e. e. cummings
Take the matter of being born. What does being born mean to most people?
e. e. cummings
twice I have lived forever in a smile
e. e. cummings
An intelligent person fights for lost causes, realizing that others are merely effects
e. e. cummings
Be of love a little more careful than of anything.
e. e. cummings
