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so much depends upon a red wheel barrow
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
Much
Barrow
Wheel
Wheels
Red
Depends
Upon
More quotes by William Carlos Williams
The perfect type of the man of action is the suicide.
William Carlos Williams
There is nothing beginning nor end to the imagination but it delights in its own seasons reversing the usual order at will.
William Carlos Williams
Love is that common tone shall raise his fiery head and sound his note.
William Carlos Williams
The descent beckons as the ascent beckoned
William Carlos Williams
O Marvelous! What new configuration will come next? I am bewildered with multiplicity.
William Carlos Williams
The poem is a capsule where we wrap up our punishable secrets.
William Carlos Williams
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
The weight of love Has buoyed me up Till my head Knocks against the sky.
William Carlos Williams
Death will be too late to bring us aid.
William Carlos Williams
But the sea which no one tends is also a garden
William Carlos Williams
In summer, the song sings itself.
William Carlos Williams
You lethargic, waiting upon me, waiting for the fire and I attendant upon you, shaken by your beauty Shaken by your beauty Shaken.
William Carlos Williams
Remorse is a virtue in that it is a stirrer up of the emotions but it is a folly to accept it is a criticism of conduct.
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
Either I exist or I do not exist, and no amount of pap which I happen to be lapping can dull me to the loss.
William Carlos Williams
Sorrow is my own yard where the new grass flames as it has flamed often before but not with the cold fire that closes round me this year.
William Carlos Williams
By listening to his language of his locality the poet begins to learn his craft. It is his function to lift, by use of imagination and the language he hears, the material conditions and appearances of his environment to the sphere of the intelligence where they will have new currency.
William Carlos Williams
[History is] a tyranny over the souls of the dead - and so the imagination of the living.
William Carlos Williams
Somewhere the sense makes copper roses steel roses — The rose carried weight of love but love is at an end — of roses It is at the edge of the petal that love waits.
William Carlos Williams
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
William Carlos Williams
