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The sweet small clumsy feet of april came into the ragged meadow of my soul.
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
April
Sweet
Feet
Small
Came
Meadow
Soul
Ragged
Clumsy
Meadows
More quotes by 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.
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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.
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Time's a strange fellow more he gives than takes (and he takes all).
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Laughing is just another way of showing people your wise
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-tomorrow is our permanent address and there they’ll scarcely find us(if they do, we’ll move away still further:into now
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all nothing's only our hugest home the most who die, the more we live
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Art is a mystery. A mystery is something immeasurable.
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Buffalo Bill's defunct
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I spill my bright incalculable soul
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True wars are never won.
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guilt is the cause of more marauders than history's most obscene disauders
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yes is a world & in this world of yes live (skilfully curled) all worlds
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Kisses are a better fate than wisdom.
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Always it’s Spring)and everyone’s in love and flowers pick themselves.
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Equality is what does not exist among mortals.
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Private property began the instant somebody had a mind of his own.
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Listen there's a hell of a good universe next door: let's go.
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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.
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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.
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i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)
e. e. cummings
