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What time is it? It is by every star a different time, and each most falsely true.
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
Stars
True
Different
Every
Time
Falsely
Star
More quotes by e. e. cummings
And the reason that i laugh and breathe is oh love
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I spill my bright incalculable soul
e. e. cummings
who pays any attention to the syntax of things will never wholly kiss you
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The first step to expanding your reality is to discard the tendency to exclude things from possibility.
e. e. cummings
Whatever's merely willful, and not miraculous (be never it so skilful) must wither fail and cease - but better than to grow beauty knows no.
e. e. cummings
Only by you my heart always moves.
e. e. cummings
An artist, a man, a failure, must proceed.
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
And this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart I carry your heart [ i carry it in my heart ]
e. e. cummings
At least the Pilgrim Fathers used to shoot Indians: the Pilgrim Children merely punch time clocks.
e. e. cummings
And still the mad magnificent herald Spring assembles beauty from forgetfulness with the wild trump of April:witchery of sound and odour drives the wingless thing man forth in the bright air.
e. e. cummings
When god decided to invent everything he took one reath bigger than a circustent and everything began
e. e. cummings
...and down they forgot as up they grew.
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
O sweet spontaneous earth
e. e. cummings
And the coolness of your smile is stirringofbirds between my arms
e. e. cummings
We can never be born enough.
e. e. cummings
Nothing recedes like progress.
e. e. cummings
our can'ts were born to happen our mosts have died in more
e. e. cummings
Damn everything but the circus! ...damn everything that is grim, dull, motionless, unrisking, inward turning, damn everything that won't get into the circle, that won't enjoy. That won't throw it's heart into the tension, surprise, fear and delight of the circus, the round world, the full existence.
e. e. cummings
