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The poem springs from the half spoken words of the patient.... When asked, how I have for so many years continued an equal interest in medicine and the poem, I reply that they amount for me to nearly the same thing.
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
Amount
Spoken
Interest
Poem
Half
Nearly
Words
Medicine
Many
Patient
Thing
Spring
Reply
Years
Asked
Springs
Equal
Continued
More quotes by William Carlos Williams
History, history! We fools, what do we know or care.
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so much depends upon a red wheel barrow glazed with rain water beside the white chickens.
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The business of love is cruelty which, by our wills, we transform to live together.
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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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And yet one arrives somehow, finds himself loosening the hooks of her dress in a strange bedroom-- feels the autumn dropping its silk and linen leaves about her ankles. The tawdry veined body emerges twisted upon itself like a winter wind.
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The pure products of America go crazy--mountain folk from Kentucky or the ribbed north end of Jersey with its isolate lakes and valleys, its deaf-mutes, thieves.
William Carlos Williams
beauty’ is related not to ‘loveliness’ but to a state in which reality plays a part.
William Carlos Williams
The instant trivial as it is is all we have unless-unless things the imagination feeds upon, the scent of the rose, startle us anew.
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What can any of us do with his talent but try to develop his vision, so that through frequent failures we may learn better what we have missed in the past.
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A new music is a new mind.
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So different, this man And this woman: A stream flowing In a field.
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The beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
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It's the anarchy of poverty delights me, the old yellow wooden house indented among the new brick tenements
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Love is that common tone shall raise his fiery head and sound his note.
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No ideas but in things.
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Sure love is cruel and selfish and totally obtuse-- at least, blinded by the light, young love is.
William Carlos Williams
Empty pockets make empty heads.
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The weight of love Has buoyed me up Till my head Knocks against the sky.
William Carlos Williams
Love is unworldly and nothing comes of it but love.
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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
William Carlos Williams
