Share
×
Inspirational Quotes
Authors
Professions
Topics
Tags
Quote
Always it’s Spring)and everyone’s in love and flowers pick themselves.
e. e. cummings
Share
Change background
T
T
T
Change font
Original
TAGS & TOPICS
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
Flowers
Pick
Picks
Spring
Flower
Everyone
Always
Love
More quotes by e. e. cummings
Here's to opening and upward... and to yourself and up with you and up with and up with laughing.
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
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
An intelligent person fights for lost causes, realizing that others are merely effects
e. e. cummings
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
e. e. cummings
What concerns me fundamentaly is a meteoric burlesk melodrama, born of the immemorial adage love will find a way.
e. e. cummings
may i be i is the only prayer--not may i be great or good or beautiful or wise or strong today... may i be me....five foot eleven, brown hair/eyed, smart, serious, happy, frustrated, impatient, joyful, running, sleeping, smiling, eating, trying, believing, listening, being & becoming.
e. e. cummings
someones married their everyones laughed their cryings and did their dance (sleep wake hope and then) they said their nevers they slept their dream
e. e. cummings
Art is a mystery. A mystery is something immeasurable.
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
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
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
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 remember we all cried like the Missouri when my Uncle Sol's coffin lurched because somebody pressed a button (and down went my uncle Sol and started a worm farm)
e. e. cummings
Laughing is just another way of showing people your wise
e. e. cummings
Because you aren't afraid to kiss the dirt (and consequently dare to climb the sky)
e. e. cummings
At least the Pilgrim Fathers used to shoot Indians: the Pilgrim Children merely punch time clocks.
e. e. cummings
May my heart always be open to little birds, who are the secrets of living. Whatever they sing is better than to know. And if men should not hear them - then men are old.
e. e. cummings
Take the so-called standard of living. What do most people mean by living? They don’t mean living. They mean the latest and closest plural approximation to singular prenatal passivity which science, in its finite but unbounded wisdom, has succeeded in selling their wives.
e. e. cummings
O gouvernment francais, I think it was not very clever of You to put this terrible doll in La Ferte for when Governments are found dead there is always a little doll on top of them, pulling and tweaking with his little hands to get back at the microscopic knife which sticks firmly in the quiet meat of their hearts.
e. e. cummings