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yes is a world & in this world of yes live (skilfully curled) all worlds
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
Worlds
Live
World
Skilfully
Curled
More quotes by e. e. cummings
Listen there's a hell of a good universe next door: let's go.
e. e. cummings
it's spring when the world is puddle-wonderful
e. e. cummings
maybe god is a child ‘s hand)very carefully bring -ing to you and to me(and quite with out crushing)the papery weightless diminutive world with a hole in it out of which demons with wings would be streaming if something had(maybe they couldn’t agree)not happened(and floating- ly int o
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
twice I have lived forever in a smile
e. e. cummings
If at the end of your first ten or fifteen years of fighting and working and feeling, you find you've written one line of one poem, you'll be very lucky indeed.
e. e. cummings
in the street of the sky night walks scattering poems
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
one pierced moment whiter than the rest -turning from the tremendous lie of sleep i watch the roses of the day grow deep.
e. e. cummings
Lovers alone wear sunlight.
e. e. cummings
how should tasting touching hearing seeing breathing any lifted from the no of all nothing human merely being doubt unimaginable You?
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
Spring is like a perhaps hand
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
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
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
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
Love is a place & through this place of love move (with brightness of peace) all places yes is a world & in this world of yes live (skillfully curled) all worlds
e. e. cummings
Really unreal world, will you perhaps do the breathing for me while I am away?
e. e. cummings
We can never be born enough.
e. e. cummings
