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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
Time
Falsely
Star
Stars
True
Different
Every
More quotes by e. e. cummings
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing than to teach ten thousand stars how not to dance.
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for whenever men are right they are not young
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Like the burlesque comedian, I am abnormally fond of that precision which creates movement.
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XVII Lady, i will touch you with my mind. Touch you and touch and touch until you give me suddenly a smile,shyly obscene (lady i will touch you with my mind.)Touch you,that is all, lightly and you utterly will become with infinite care the poem which i do not write.
e. e. cummings
An intelligent person fights for lost causes, realizing that others are merely effects
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Must's a schoolroom in the month of may
e. e. cummings
The most wasted of all days is one without laughter.
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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As small as a world as large as alone.
e. e. cummings
In just - Spring when the world is mud- luscious the little lame balloonman whistles far and wee
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Lovers alone wear sunlight.
e. e. cummings
Exists no miracle mightier than this: to feel.
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Yours is the light by which my spirit's born: - you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars.
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that strictly(and how)scienti fic land of supernod where freedom is compulsory and only man is god.
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
a man who had fallen among thieves lay by the roadside on his back dressed in fifteenthrate ideas wearing a round jeer for a hat
e. e. cummings
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)
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
And the coolness of your smile is stirringofbirds between my arms
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
