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Spring is like a perhaps hand
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
Spring
Perhaps
Hand
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More quotes by e. e. cummings
Lessons hide in his wrinkles. Bells ding in the oldness of eyes. Did he by, any chance, tell children that there are such monstrous things as peace and goodwill...a corrupter of youth no doubt.
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guilt is the cause of more marauders than history's most obscene disauders
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twice I have lived forever in a smile
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one pierced moment whiter than the rest -turning from the tremendous lie of sleep i watch the roses of the day grow deep.
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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
The first step to expanding your reality is to discard the tendency to exclude things from possibility.
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(existing's tricky:but to live's a gift)
e. e. cummings
since the thing perhaps is to eat flowers and not to be afraid
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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.
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Only by you my heart always moves.
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Unbeing dead isn't being alive.
e. e. cummings
it's spring when the world is puddle-wonderful
e. e. cummings
As small as a world as large as alone.
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I like my body when it is with your body. It is so quite new a thing. Muscles better and nerves more.
e. e. cummings
The world is mud-luscious and puddle-wonderful.
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
Next to of course god America i / love you land of the pilgrims and so forth oh
e. e. cummings
Really unreal world, will you perhaps do the breathing for me while I am away?
e. e. cummings
who pays any attention to the syntax of things will never wholly kiss you
e. e. cummings
all nothing's only our hugest home the most who die, the more we live
e. e. cummings