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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.

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
Hate
Fear
Artist
Nobly
Night
Truthful
Trying
Possess
Love
Honor
Tomorrow
Trust

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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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for whenever men are right they are not young
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Seeming's enough for slaves of space and time - ours is the now and here of freedom. Come.
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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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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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The first step to expanding your reality is to discard the tendency to exclude things from possibility.
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that strictly(and how)scienti fic land of supernod where freedom is compulsory and only man is god.
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Let must or if be damned with whomever's afraid down with ought with because with every brain which thinks it thinks, nor dares to feel.
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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.
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Lovers alone wear sunlight.
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An intelligent person fights for lost causes, realizing that others are merely effects
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Yours is the light by which my spirit's born: - you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars.
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Private property began the instant somebody had a mind of his own.
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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
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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.
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one day anyone died i guess (and noone stooped to kiss his face) busy folk buried them side by side little by little and was by was
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what if a much of a which of a wind gives the truth to summer's lie bloodies with dizzying leaves the sun and yanks immortal stars awry?
e. e. cummings
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wholly to be a fool while Spring is in the world my blood approves, and kisses are a far better fate than wisdom lady i swear by all flowers.
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And the reason that i laugh and breathe is oh love
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You have played, (I think) And broke the toys you were fondest of, And are a little tired now Tired of things that break, and— Just tired. So am I.
e. e. cummings