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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
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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
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More quotes by William Carlos Williams
O Marvelous! What new configuration will come next? I am bewildered with multiplicity.
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Your thighs are appletrees whose blossoms touch the sky. Your knees are a southern breeze.
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The better work men do is always done under stress and at great personal cost.
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[History is] a tyranny over the souls of the dead - and so the imagination of the living.
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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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A poem is a small machine made of words. . .Its movement is intrinsic, undulant, a physical more than a literary character.
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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
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.
William Carlos Williams
So different, this man And this woman: A stream flowing In a field.
William Carlos Williams
Among the rain and lights I saw the figure 5 in gold on a red firetruck moving tense unheeded to gong clangs siren howls and wheels rumbling through the dark city.
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Most of the beauties of travel are due to the strange hours we keep to see them
William Carlos Williams
Nothing whips my blood like verse.
William Carlos Williams
Everyone in this life is defeated but a man, if he be a man, is not defeated.
William Carlos Williams
Minds like beds always made up (more stony than a shore) unwilling or unable.
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Houses - the dark side silhouetted on flashes of moonlight!
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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.
William Carlos Williams
No ideas but in things.
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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.
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Dissonance / (if you are interested) / leads to discovery.
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Outside, the north wind, coming and passing, swelling and dying, lifts the frozen sand drives it a-rattle against the lidless windows and we may dear sit stroking the cat stroking the cat and smiling sleepily, prrrr.
William Carlos Williams
