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we, in that instant, lost, breathless to be witnesses, as if we stood ourselves refreshed among the shining fauna of that fire.
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
Fire
Breathless
Lost
Witnesses
Stood
Instant
Witness
Shining
Among
Fauna
Vision
Refreshed
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And yet one arrives somehow, finds himself loosening the hooks of her dress in a strange bedroom-- feels the autumn dropping its silk and linen leaves about her ankles. The tawdry veined body emerges twisted upon itself like a winter wind.
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Death will be too late to bring us aid.
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To make a start, out of particulars and make them general, rolling up the sum, by defective means Sniffing the trees, just another dog among a lot of dogs.What else is there? And to do?
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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!
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Empty pockets make empty heads.
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Love is a young green willow shimmering at the bare wood's edge
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through metaphor to reconcile the people and the stones.
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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
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The better work men do is always done under stress and at great personal cost.
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The War is the first and only thing in the world today. The arts generally are not, nor is this writing a diversion from that for relief, a turning away. It is the war or part of it, merely a different sector of the field.
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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.
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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!
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beauty’ is related not to ‘loveliness’ but to a state in which reality plays a part.
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I have never been one to write by rule, not even by my own rules.
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Liquor and love rescue the cloudy sense banish its despair give it a home.
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the set pieces of your faces stir me - leading citizens - but not in the same way.
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