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Lessons hide in his wrinkles. Bells ding in the oldness of eyes. Did he by, any chance, tell children that there are such monstrous things as peace and goodwill...a corrupter of youth no doubt.
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
Peace
Bells
Tell
Hide
Children
Lessons
Things
Youth
Corrupter
Doubt
Ding
Eyes
Goodwill
Chance
Wrinkles
Eye
Monstrous
More quotes by e. e. cummings
when man determined to destroy himself he picked the was of shall and finding only why smashed it into because.
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Must's a schoolroom in the month of may
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I like my body when it is with your body. It is so quite new a thing. Muscles better and nerves more.
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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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The sensual mysticism of entire vertical being.
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What time is it? It is by every star a different time, and each most falsely true.
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?
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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 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
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
Kisses are a better fate than wisdom.
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I spill my bright incalculable soul
e. e. cummings
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
Take the matter of being born. What does being born mean to most people?
e. e. cummings
it's no use trying to pretend that mostpeople and ourselves are alike. Mostpeople have less in common with ourselves than thesquarerootofminusone. You and I are human beings mostpeople are snobs.
e. e. cummings
here is the deepest secret nobody knows (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life which grows higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide) and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)
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
all nothing's only our hugest home the most who die, the more we live
e. e. cummings
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.
e. e. cummings
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.
e. e. cummings
