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so much depends upon a red wheel barrow glazed with rain water beside the white chickens.
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
Depends
Wheelbarrows
Upon
Glazed
Water
Beside
White
Wheel
Much
Chickens
Wheels
Red
Rain
Barrow
More quotes by William Carlos Williams
Liquor and love rescue the cloudy sense banish its despair give it a home.
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It's a strange courage you give me ancient star: Shine alone in the sunrise toward which you lend no part!
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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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It is difficult to get the news from poetry, yet men die miserably every day for lack of what is found there.
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Dissonance / (if you are interested) / leads to discovery.
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The poem is a capsule where we wrap up our punishable secrets.
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Love is a young green willow shimmering at the bare wood's edge
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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
No ideas but in things.
William Carlos Williams
I tried to put a bird in a cage. O fool that I am! For the bird was Truth. Sing merrily, Truth: I tried to put Truth in a cage!
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
It was the love of love, the love of swallows up all else, a grateful love, a love of natural, of people, of animals, a love ingengering gentleness and goodness that moved meand that I saw in you
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The descent beckons as the ascent beckoned
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History must stay open, it is all humanity.
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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
I thought my friends were damn fools, because they didn't know any better way of conducting their lives. Still they conformed better than I to a code. I wanted to conform but I couldn't so I wrote my poetry.
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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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A poem is a small machine made out of words.
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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
A new music is a new mind.
William Carlos Williams