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I pick the hair from her eyes and watch her misery with compassion.

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
Misery
Compassion
Watches
Watch
Hair
Eyes
Eye
Pick
Picks

More quotes by William Carlos Williams

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all to no end save beauty the eternal-- So in detail they, the crowd, are beautiful
William Carlos Williams
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Why do I write today? The beauty of the terrible faces of our nonentities stirs me to it: colored women day workers- old and experienced- returning home at dusk, in cast off clothing faces like old Florentine oak.
William Carlos Williams
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My surface is myself. Under which to witness, youth is buried. Roots? Everybody has roots.
William Carlos Williams
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the set pieces of your faces stir me - leading citizens - but not in the same way.
William Carlos Williams
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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.
William Carlos Williams
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The better work men do is always done under stress and at great personal cost.
William Carlos Williams
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What power has love but forgiveness? In other words by its intervention what has been done can be undone. What good is it otherwise?
William Carlos Williams
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Old age is a flight of small cheeping birds skimming bare trees above a snow glaze.
William Carlos Williams
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Unless there is a new mind there cannot be a new line, the old will go on repeating itself with recurring deadliness
William Carlos Williams
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so much depends upon a red wheel barrow
William Carlos Williams
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beauty’ is related not to ‘loveliness’ but to a state in which reality plays a part.
William Carlos Williams
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By listening to his language of his locality the poet begins to learn his craft. It is his function to lift, by use of imagination and the language he hears, the material conditions and appearances of his environment to the sphere of the intelligence where they will have new currency.
William Carlos Williams
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Poets are damned but they are not blind, they see with the eyes of angels.
William Carlos Williams
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Old age is a flight of small cheeping birds skimming bare trees above a snow glaze. Gaining and failing they are buffeted by a dark wind - But what? On harsh weedstalks the flock has rested - the snow is covered with broken seed husks and the wind tempered with a shrill piping of plenty.
William Carlos Williams
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The only realism in art is of the imagination.
William Carlos Williams
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It was the love of love, the love of swallows up all else, a grateful love, a love of natural, of people, of animals, a love ingengering gentleness and goodness that moved meand that I saw in you
William Carlos Williams
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A poem is this:/A nuance of sound/delicately operating/upon a cataract of sense/...the particulars/of a song waking/upon a bed of sound.
William Carlos Williams
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I think of the poetry of René Char and all he must have seen and suffered that has brought him to speak only of sedgy rivers, of daffodils and tulips whose roots they water, even to the free-flowing river that laves the rootlets of those sweet-scented flowers that people the milky way
William Carlos Williams
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That which is possible is inevitable.
William Carlos Williams
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A new world is only a new mind.
William Carlos Williams