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An artist, a man, a failure, must proceed.

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
Proceed
Failure
Artist
Must
Men

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Sweet springtime is my time is your time is our time for springtime is love time and viva sweet love.
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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
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Laughing is just another way of showing people your wise
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To like an individual because he's black is just as insulting as to dislike him because he isn't white.
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All ignorance toboggans into know and trudges up to ignorance again.
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The hardest fight a man has to fight is to live in a world where every single day someone is trying to make you someone you do not want to be--
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When god decided to invent everything he took one reath bigger than a circustent and everything began
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The hardest challenge is to be yourself in a world where everyone is trying to make you be somebody else.
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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.
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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.
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the other guineahen died of a broken heart and we came to New York. I used to sit at a table,drawing wings with a pencil that kept breaking and i kept remembering how your mind looked when it slept for several years,to wake up asking why. So then you turned into a photograph of somebody who’s trying not to laugh at somebody who’s trying not to cry
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nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands
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Unbeing dead isn't being alive.
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I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing than to teach ten thousand stars how not to dance.
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No evil is so worse than worst you fall in hate with love.
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We do not believe in ourselves until someone reveals that deep inside us something is valuable, worth listening to, worthy of our trust, sacred to our touch. Once we believe in ourselves we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight or any experience that reveals the human spirit.
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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
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