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i do not know what it is about you that closes and opensonly something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses
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
Something
Roses
Love
Understands
Opens
Rose
Deeper
Eyes
Eye
Voice
Closes
More quotes by e. e. cummings
The mind is its own beautiful prisoner. Mind looked long at the sticky moon opening in dusk her new wings then decently hanged himself,one afternoon. The last thing he saw was you naked amid unnaked things.
e. e. cummings
Take the matter of being born. What does being born mean to most people?
e. e. cummings
You and I are more than you and I because it's we.
e. e. cummings
Seeming's enough for slaves of space and time - ours is the now and here of freedom. Come.
e. e. cummings
all nothing's only our hugest home the most who die, the more we live
e. e. cummings
A pretty girl who is naked / is worth a million statues
e. e. cummings
may i be i is the only prayer--not may i be great or good or beautiful or wise or strong today... may i be me....five foot eleven, brown hair/eyed, smart, serious, happy, frustrated, impatient, joyful, running, sleeping, smiling, eating, trying, believing, listening, being & becoming.
e. e. cummings
The first step to expanding your reality is to discard the tendency to exclude things from possibility.
e. e. cummings
Like the burlesque comedian, I am abnormally fond of that precision which creates movement.
e. e. cummings
Humanity I love you because when you're hard up you pawn your intelligence to buy a drink.
e. e. cummings
yes is a world & in this world of yes live (skilfully curled) all worlds
e. e. cummings
Yours is the light by which my spirit's born: - you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars.
e. e. cummings
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
e. e. cummings
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands
e. e. cummings
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses
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.)
e. e. cummings
our can'ts were born to happen our mosts have died in more
e. e. cummings
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
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
The hardest challenge is to be yourself in a world where everyone is trying to make you be somebody else.
e. e. cummings
