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Somewhere the sense makes copper roses steel roses — The rose carried weight of love but love is at an end — of roses It is at the edge of the petal that love waits.
William Carlos Williams
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William Carlos Williams
Age: 79 †
Born: 1883
Born: September 17
Died: 1963
Died: March 4
Autobiographer
Literary Critic
Physician
Physician Writer
Poet
Writer
Petals
Somewhere
Waits
Rose
Roses
Weight
Steel
Flower
Carried
Waiting
Edge
Sense
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Petal
Makes
Copper
Love
Edges
More quotes by William Carlos Williams
Afraid lest he be caught up in a net of words, tripped up, bewildered and so defeated-thrown aside-a man hesitates to write down his innermost convictions.
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So different, this man And this woman: A stream flowing In a field.
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No opinion can be trusted even the facts may be nothing but a printer's error.
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By the road to the contagious hospital under the surge of the blue mottled clouds driven from the northeast - a cold wind.
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The perfect type of the man of action is the suicide.
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Shoes twisted into incredible lilies.
William Carlos Williams
There's nothing sentimental about a machine, and: A poem is a small (or large) machine made of words.
William Carlos Williams
Time is a storm in which we are all lost.
William Carlos Williams
But all art is sensual and poetry particularly so. It is directly, that is, of the senses, and since the senses do not exist without an object for their employment all art is necessarily objective. It doesn't declaim or explain, it presents.
William Carlos Williams
Poets are being pursued by the philosophers today, out of the poverty of philosophy. God damn it, you might think a man had no business to be writing, to be a poet unless some philosophic stinker gave him permission.
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Poe gives the sense for the first time in America, that literature is serious, not a matter of courtesy but of truth.
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The pure products of America go crazy
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The only realism in art is of the imagination.
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No ideas but in things.
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Love is that common tone shall raise his fiery head and sound his note.
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I thought my friends were damn fools, because they didn't know any better way of conducting their lives. Still they conformed better than I to a code. I wanted to conform but I couldn't so I wrote my poetry.
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To refine, to clarify, to intensify that eternal moment in which we alone live there is but a single force the imagination.
William Carlos Williams
That which is possible is inevitable.
William Carlos Williams
No wreaths please - especially no hothouse flowers. Some common memento is better, something he prized and is known by: his old clothes - a few books perhaps.
William Carlos Williams
Poetry demands a different material than prose. It uses another facet of the same fact... the spontaneous conformation of language as it is heard.
William Carlos Williams