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...remember one thing only: that it's you-nobody else-who determines your destiny and decides your fate. Nobody else can be alive for you nor can you be alive for anybody else.
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
Remember
Determines
Thing
Determine
Fate
Destiny
Anybody
Nobody
Alive
Else
Decides
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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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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.
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how should tasting touching hearing seeing breathing any lifted from the no of all nothing human merely being doubt unimaginable You?
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you shall above all things be glad and young For if you're young,whatever life you wear it will become youand if you are glad whatever's living will yourself become.
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twice I have lived forever in a smile
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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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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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it's spring when the world is puddle-wonderful
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Spring is like a perhaps hand
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You shall above all things be glad and young.
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All ignorance toboggans into know and trudges up to ignorance again.
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Next to of course god America i / love you land of the pilgrims and so forth oh
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O sweet spontaneous earth how often has the naughty thumb of science prodded thy beauty thou answereth them only with spring.
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Seeming's enough for slaves of space and time - ours is the now and here of freedom. Come.
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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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Sweet springtime is my time is your time is our time for springtime is love time and viva sweet love.
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...and down they forgot as up they grew.
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-Before leaving my room i turn, and (stooping through the morning) kiss this pillow, dear where our heads lived and were.
e. e. cummings