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Being an art form, verse cannot be free in the sense of having no limitations or guiding principle.
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
Free
Sense
Guiding
Art
Verse
Cannot
Verses
Form
Limitations
Limitation
Principle
Principles
More quotes by William Carlos Williams
Old age is a flight of small cheeping birds skimming bare trees above a snow glaze.
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What power has love but forgiveness? In other words by its intervention what has been done can be undone. What good is it otherwise?
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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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We are blind and live our blind lives out in blindness.
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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
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Dissonance / (if you are interested) / leads to discovery.
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If I admire my arms, my face, my shoulders, flanks, buttocks against the yellow drawn shades,-- Who shall say I am not the happy genius of my household?
William Carlos Williams
It is difficult to get the news from poems, yet men die miserably every day for lack of what is found there.
William Carlos Williams
The weight of love Has buoyed me up Till my head Knocks against the sky.
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I have never been one to write by rule, not even by my own rules.
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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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By the road to the contagious hospital under the surge of the blue mottled clouds driven from the northeast - a cold wind.
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What power has love but forgiveness?
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Houses - the dark side silhouetted on flashes of moonlight!
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A poem is a small machine made out of words.
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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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Afraid lest he be caught up in a net of words, tripped up, bewildered and so defeated-thrown aside-a man hesitates to write down his innermost convictions.
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As the rain falls so does your love bathe every open object of the world
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No ideas but in things.
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What love is I don't know if it's not the response of our deepest natures to one another.
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