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Prose may carry a load of ill-defined matters like a ship. But poetry is the machine which drives it, pruned to a perfect economy.
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
Perfect
Ill
May
Machine
Matter
Defined
Pruned
Like
Machines
Drives
Carry
Load
Matters
Ship
Poetry
Prose
Economy
Ships
More quotes by William Carlos Williams
Most of the beauties of travel are due to the strange hours we keep to see them
William Carlos Williams
To refine, to clarify, to intensify that eternal moment in which we alone live there is but a single force the imagination.
William Carlos Williams
No ideas but in things.
William Carlos Williams
It is almost impossible to state what one in fact believes, because it is almost impossible to hold a belief and to define it at the same time.
William Carlos Williams
When I am alone I am happy.
William Carlos Williams
I pick the hair from her eyes and watch her misery with compassion.
William Carlos Williams
I think these days when there is so little to believe in——when the old loyalties——God, country, and the hope of Heaven——aren't very real, we are more dependent than we should be on our friends. The only thing left to believe in——someone who seems beautiful.
William Carlos Williams
Unless there is a new mind there cannot be a new line, the old will go on repeating itself with recurring deadliness
William Carlos Williams
The pure products of America go crazy
William Carlos Williams
I will teach you my townspeople how to perform a funeral for you have it over a troop of artists unless one should scour the world you have the ground sense necessary.
William Carlos Williams
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
Old age is a flight of small cheeping birds skimming bare trees above a snow glaze.
William Carlos Williams
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
Poets are damned but they are not blind, they see with the eyes of angels.
William Carlos Williams
Everyone in this life is defeated but a man, if he be a man, is not defeated.
William Carlos Williams
Compose. (No ideas but in things) Invent! Saxifrage is my flower that splits the rocks.
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
Houses - the dark side silhouetted on flashes of moonlight!
William Carlos Williams
Let the snake wait under his weed and the writing be of words, slow and quick, sharp to strike, quiet to wait, sleepless. - through metaphor to reconcile the people and the stones. Compose. (No ideas but in things) Invent! Saxifrage is my flower that splits the rocks.
William Carlos Williams
No opinion can be trusted even the facts may be nothing but a printer's error.
William Carlos Williams