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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
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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
Inside
Tongue
Stars
Mouths
Ribcage
Someone
Fingers
Sprouting
Home
Healing
Echoing
Think
Roots
Entwined
Thinking
Ocean
Gaps
Flower
Flowers
Asked
Mouth
More quotes by 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
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Time's a strange fellow more he gives than takes (and he takes all).
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And this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart I carry your heart [ i carry it in my heart ]
e. e. cummings
Every artist's strictly illimitable country is himself. An artist who plays that country false has committed suicide and even a good lawyer cannot kill the dead. But a human being who's true to himself - whoever himself may be - is immortal and all the atomic bombs of all the antiartists in spacetime will never civilize immortality.
e. e. cummings
Art is a mystery. A mystery is something immeasurable.
e. e. cummings
What time is it? It is by every star a different time, and each most falsely true.
e. e. cummings
Like the burlesque comedian, I am abnormally fond of that precision which creates movement.
e. e. cummings
Nobody else can be alive for you nor can you be alive for anybody else.
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
Buffalo Bill's defunct
e. e. cummings
who pays any attention to the syntax of things will never wholly kiss you
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We can never be born enough.
e. e. cummings
At least the Pilgrim Fathers used to shoot Indians: the Pilgrim Children merely punch time clocks.
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
Well, write poetry, for God's sake, it's the only thing that matters.
e. e. cummings
And now you are and I am and we're a mystery which will never happen again.
e. e. cummings
An artist, a man, a failure, must proceed.
e. e. cummings
When skies are hanged and oceans drowned, the single secret will still be man
e. e. cummings
So, when kiss Spring comes we'll kiss each kiss other on kiss the kiss lips because tic clocks tock don't make a toctic difference to kisskiss you and to kiss me.
e. e. cummings
Take the matter of being born. What does being born mean to most people?
e. e. cummings
