Quote

For there is a wind or a ghost of wind in all books echoing the life there, a high wind that fills the tubes of the ear until we think we hear a wind, actual.

William Carlos Williams

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

William Carlos Williams
Age: 79 †
Born: 1883
Born: September 17
Died: 1963
Died: March 4
Autobiographer
Literary Critic
Physician
Physician Writer
Poet
Writer
High
Tubes
Book
Fills
Think
Actual
Thinking
Ghost
Life
Ears
Wind
Hear
Books
Echoing

More quotes by William Carlos Williams

Image
O Marvelous! What new configuration will come next? I am bewildered with multiplicity.
William Carlos Williams
Image
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
Image
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
Image
Minds like beds always made up (more stony than a shore) unwilling or unable.
William Carlos Williams
Image
What power has love but forgiveness?
William Carlos Williams
Image
The only human value of anything, writing included, is intense vision of the facts.
William Carlos Williams
Image
A new world is only a new mind.
William Carlos Williams
Image
My first poem was a bolt from the blue … it broke a spell of disillusion and suicidal despondence. ... it filled me with soul satisfying joy.
William Carlos Williams
Image
The better work men do is always done under stress and at great personal cost.
William Carlos Williams
Image
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
Image
The weight of love Has buoyed me up Till my head Knocks against the sky.
William Carlos Williams
Image
Houses - the dark side silhouetted on flashes of moonlight!
William Carlos Williams
Image
What love is I don't know if it's not the response of our deepest natures to one another.
William Carlos Williams
Image
Love is a young green willow shimmering at the bare wood's edge
William Carlos Williams
Image
Love is that common tone shall raise his fiery head and sound his note.
William Carlos Williams
Image
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.
William Carlos Williams
Image
Sunshine of late afternoon-- On the glass tray a glass pitcher, the tumbler turned down, by which a key is lying--And the immaculate white bed
William Carlos Williams
Image
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
Image
Time is a storm in which we are all lost.
William Carlos Williams
Image
through metaphor to reconcile the people and the stones.
William Carlos Williams