Quotes from e. e. cummings

Take the so-called standard of living. What do most people mean by "living"? They don't mean living. They mean the latest and closest plural approximation to singular prenatal passivity which science, in its finite but unbounded wisdom, has succeeded in selling their wives.

life's not a paragraph And death i think is no parenthesis

For whatever we lose (like a you or a me), It's always our self we find in the sea.

anyone lived in a pretty how town(with up so floating many bells down)spring summer autumn winterhe sang his didn't he danced his did.

A politician is an arse upon which everybody has sat except a man

A politician is an ass upon which everyone has sat except a man.

A wind has blown the rain away and blown the sky away and all the leaves away, and the trees stand. I think, I too, have known autumn too long.

and the reason that I laugh and breathe is oh love

Every answer asks a more beautiful question

Unbeing dead isn't being alive.

The world is mud-luscious and puddle-wonderful.

A wind has blown the rain away and blown the sky away and all the leaves away, and the trees stand. I think, I too, have known autumn too long.

I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing than teach 10,000 stars how not to dance.

I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing than to teach ten thousand stars how not to dance.

America makes prodigious mistakes, America has colossal faults, but one thing cannot be denied: America is always on the move. She may be going to Hell, of course, but at least she isn't standing still.

i shall imagine life is not worth dying,if (and when)roses complain their beauties are in vain but though mankind persuades itself that every weed's a rose,roses(you feel certain)will only smile

Life ,for eternal us,is now

...sunlight is (life and day are)only loaned:whereas night is given(night and death and the rain are given;and given is how beautifully snow)

It takes three to make a child.

At least the Pilgrim Fathers used to shoot Indians: the Pilgrim Children merely punch time clocks.

Time cannot children,poets,lovers tell- measure imagine,mystery,a kiss -not though mankind would rather know than feel

Time's a strange fellow; more he gives than takes (and he takes all).

What time is it? It is by every star a different time, and each most falsely true.

i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens;only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses