Quote

One by one the objects are defined? It quickens: clarity, outline of leaf But now the stark dignity of entrance?Still, the profound change has come upon them: rooted, they grip down and begin to awaken.

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
Objects
Leafs
Outline
Upon
Leaf
Entrance
Stills
Rooted
Starks
Change
Clarity
Stark
Still
Defined
Entrances
Come
Profound
Outlines
Dignity
Grip
Begin
Awaken
Quickens

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But the sea which no one tends is also a garden
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For what we cannot accomplish, what is denied to love, what we have lost in the anticipation a descent follows, endless and indestructible.
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Minds like beds always made up (more stony than a shore) unwilling or unable.
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I think all writing is a disease. You can't stop it.
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Man has survived hitherto because he was too ignorant to know how to realise his wishes- Now that he can realise them, he must either change them or perish
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we, in that instant, lost, breathless to be witnesses, as if we stood ourselves refreshed among the shining fauna of that fire.
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all to no end save beauty the eternal-- So in detail they, the crowd, are beautiful
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Outside, the north wind, coming and passing, swelling and dying, lifts the frozen sand drives it a-rattle against the lidless windows and we may dear sit stroking the cat stroking the cat and smiling sleepily, prrrr.
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Among of green stiff old bright broken branch come white sweet May again
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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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Liquor and love rescue the cloudy sense banish its despair give it a home.
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Love is a young green willow shimmering at the bare wood's edge
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Covertly the hands of a great clock go round and round! Were they to move quickly and at once the whole secret would be out and the shuffling of all ants be done forever.
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One thing I am convinced more and more is true, and that is this: The only way to be truly happy is to make others happy. When you realize that and take advantage of the fact, everything is made perfect.
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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.
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I pick the hair from her eyes and watch her misery with compassion.
William Carlos Williams
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Hell take curtains! Go with some show of inconvenience sit openly - to the weather as to grief. Or do you think you can shut your grief in?
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All women are not Helen, I know that, but have Helen in their hearts.
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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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We sit and talk quietly, with long lapses of silence, and I am aware of the stream that has no language, coursing beneath the quiet heaven of your eyes, which has no speech.
William Carlos Williams