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And now you are and I am and we're a mystery which will never happen again.
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
Mystery
Happen
Happens
Never
More quotes by e. e. cummings
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.
e. e. cummings
in the street of the sky night walks scattering poems
e. e. cummings
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you
e. e. cummings
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands
e. e. cummings
Nothing recedes like progress.
e. e. cummings
yes is a world & in this world of yes live (skilfully curled) all worlds
e. e. cummings
what if a much of a which of a wind gives the truth to summer's lie bloodies with dizzying leaves the sun and yanks immortal stars awry?
e. e. cummings
All ignorance toboggans into know and trudges up to ignorance again.
e. e. cummings
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
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
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
O sweet spontaneous earth how often has the naughty thumb of science prodded thy beauty thou answereth them only with spring.
e. e. cummings
What if a dawn of a doom of a dream bites this universe in two, peels forever out of his grave, and sprinkles nowhere with me and you?
e. e. cummings
The sweet small clumsy feet of april came into the ragged meadow of my soul.
e. e. cummings
Well, write poetry, for God's sake, it's the only thing that matters.
e. e. cummings
since the thing perhaps is to eat flowers and not to be afraid
e. e. cummings
Progress is a comfortable disease.
e. e. cummings
Take the matter of being born. What does being born mean to most people?
e. e. cummings
If 180 million people want to be undead, that’s their funeral, but I happen to like being alive.
e. e. cummings
I will take the sun in my mouth and leap into the ripe air Alive with closed eyes to dash against darkness
e. e. cummings
