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THESE are the desolate, dark weeks when nature in its barrenness equals the stupidity of man. The year plunges into night and the heart plunges lower than night.
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
Dark
Desolate
Night
Plunge
Nature
Equals
Heart
Lower
Years
Weeks
Men
Stupidity
Week
Barrenness
Year
Plunges
More quotes by William Carlos Williams
Prose may carry a load of ill-defined matters like a ship. But poetry is the machine which drives it, pruned to a perfect economy.
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The beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
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Liquor and love rescue the cloudy sense banish its despair give it a home.
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Each speech having its own character, the poetry it engenders will be peculiar to that speech also in its own intrinsic form. The effect is beauty, what in a single object resolves our complex feelings of propriety.
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I tried to put a bird in a cage. O fool that I am! For the bird was Truth. Sing merrily, Truth: I tried to put Truth in a cage!
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All women are not Helen, I know that, but have Helen in their hearts.
William Carlos Williams
we, in that instant, lost, breathless to be witnesses, as if we stood ourselves refreshed among the shining fauna of that fire.
William Carlos Williams
You lethargic, waiting upon me, waiting for the fire and I attendant upon you, shaken by your beauty Shaken by your beauty Shaken.
William Carlos Williams
through metaphor to reconcile the people and the stones.
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The Moon, the dried weeds and the Pleiades - Seven feet tall the dark, dried weed stalks make a part of the night a red lace on the milky blue sky
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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.
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As the rain falls so does your love bathe every open object of the world
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History must stay open, it is all humanity.
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O Marvelous! What new configuration will come next? I am bewildered with multiplicity.
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The better work men do is always done under stress and at great personal cost.
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Houses - the dark side silhouetted on flashes of moonlight!
William Carlos Williams
When I am alone I am happy.
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The business of love is cruelty which, by our wills, we transform to live together.
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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.
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A new world is only a new mind.
William Carlos Williams
