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There is nothing beginning nor end to the imagination but it delights in its own seasons reversing the usual order at will.
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
Order
Ends
Reversing
Nothing
Delights
Usual
Seasons
Delight
Beginning
Imagination
More quotes by William Carlos Williams
I think these days when there is so little to believe in——when the old loyalties——God, country, and the hope of Heaven——aren't very real, we are more dependent than we should be on our friends. The only thing left to believe in——someone who seems beautiful.
William Carlos Williams
beauty’ is related not to ‘loveliness’ but to a state in which reality plays a part.
William Carlos Williams
Love is that common tone shall raise his fiery head and sound his note.
William Carlos Williams
The only human value of anything, writing included, is intense vision of the facts.
William Carlos Williams
Who isn't frustrated and does not prove it by his actions - if you want to say so? But through art the psychologically maimed may become the most distinguished man of his age. Take Freud for instance.
William Carlos Williams
The perfect type of the man of action is the suicide.
William Carlos Williams
Time is a storm in which we are all lost.
William Carlos Williams
It is not what you say that matters but the manner in which you say it there lies the secret of the ages.
William Carlos Williams
The beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
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.
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
Say it, no ideas but in things - nothing but the blank faces of the houses and cylindrical trees bent, forked by preconception and accident - split, furrowed, creased, mottled, stained - secret - into the body of the light!
William Carlos Williams
So different, this man And this woman: A stream flowing In a field.
William Carlos Williams
What love is I don't know if it's not the response of our deepest natures to one another.
William Carlos Williams
I'll write whatever I damn please, whenever I damn please and as I damn please and it'll be good if the authentic spirit of change is on it.
William Carlos Williams
Love is unworldly and nothing comes of it but love.
William Carlos Williams
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
I have never been one to write by rule, not even by my own rules.
William Carlos Williams
through metaphor to reconcile the people and the stones.
William Carlos Williams
A poem is a small machine made of words.
William Carlos Williams
