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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.
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
Beauty
Colored
Faces
Clothings
Write
Clothing
Women
Experienced
Nonentity
Home
Cast
Stirs
Today
Casts
Dusk
Writing
Workers
Oaks
Like
Terrible
Returning
More quotes by William Carlos Williams
By the road to the contagious hospital under the surge of the blue mottled clouds driven from the northeast - a cold wind.
William Carlos Williams
Dissonance / (if you are interested) / leads to discovery.
William Carlos Williams
The descent beckons as the ascent beckoned
William Carlos Williams
First we have to see. Or first we have to be taught to see. We have to be taught to see here, because here is everywhere, related to everywhere else, and if we don't see, hear, taste, smell and feel in this place - not only will we never know anything but the world of sense will be by that much diminished everywhere.
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
What power has love but forgiveness?
William Carlos Williams
Love is unworldly and nothing comes of it but love.
William Carlos Williams
A poem is a small machine made of words.
William Carlos Williams
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.
William Carlos Williams
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.
William Carlos Williams
If it ain't a pleasure, it ain't a poem.
William Carlos Williams
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
There's nothing sentimental about a machine, and: A poem is a small (or large) machine made of words.
William Carlos Williams
It's the anarchy of poverty delights me, the old yellow wooden house indented among the new brick tenements
William Carlos Williams
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.
William Carlos Williams
Compose. (No ideas but in things) Invent! Saxifrage is my flower that splits the rocks.
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
History must stay open, it is all humanity.
William Carlos Williams
My surface is myself. Under which to witness, youth is buried. Roots? Everybody has roots.
William Carlos Williams
