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it's spring when the world is puddle-wonderful
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
Puddle
Puddles
Spring
Wonderful
World
More quotes by 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
It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.
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The world is mud-luscious and puddle-wonderful.
e. e. cummings
since the thing perhaps is to eat flowers and not to be afraid
e. e. cummings
somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
e. e. cummings
...and down they forgot as up they grew.
e. e. cummings
Exists no miracle mightier than this: to feel.
e. e. cummings
We can never be born enough.
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
And now you are and I am and we're a mystery which will never happen again.
e. e. cummings
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.
e. e. cummings
A pretty girl who is naked / is worth a million statues
e. e. cummings
Spring is like a perhaps hand
e. e. cummings
And the reason that i laugh and breathe is oh love
e. e. cummings
Listen there's a hell of a good universe next door: let's go.
e. e. cummings
Art is a mystery. A mystery is something immeasurable.
e. e. cummings
Because you aren't afraid to kiss the dirt (and consequently dare to climb the sky)
e. e. cummings
As small as a world as large as alone.
e. e. cummings
XVII Lady, i will touch you with my mind. Touch you and touch and touch until you give me suddenly a smile,shyly obscene (lady i will touch you with my mind.)Touch you,that is all, lightly and you utterly will become with infinite care the poem which i do not write.
e. e. cummings
Unbeing dead isn't being alive.
e. e. cummings
