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We can never be born enough.
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
Enough
Never
Born
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It may take two people to make a really beautiful mistake.
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in the street of the sky night walks scattering poems
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A wind has blown the rain away and blown the sky away and all the leaves away, and the trees stand. I think, I too, have known autumn too long.
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When skies are hanged and oceans drowned, the single secret will still be man
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So, when kiss Spring comes we'll kiss each kiss other on kiss the kiss lips because tic clocks tock don't make a toctic difference to kisskiss you and to kiss me.
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And now you are and I am and we're a mystery which will never happen again.
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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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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.
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Unbeing dead isn't being alive.
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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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Be of love a little more careful than of anything.
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Private property began the instant somebody had a mind of his own.
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since the thing perhaps is to eat flowers and not to be afraid
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An artist, a man, a failure, must proceed.
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that strictly(and how)scienti fic land of supernod where freedom is compulsory and only man is god.
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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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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)
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Progress is a comfortable disease.
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