Quotes from E.E. Cummings

i remember we all cried like the Missouri when my Uncle Sol's coffin lurched because somebody pressed a button (and down went my uncle Sol and started a worm farm)

Let's live suddenly without thinking. Let's live like the light that kills. And let's as silence, because Whirl's after all: (after me) love, and after you. I occasionally feel vague how vague I don't know tenuous Now - spears and The Then - arrows making do our mouths, something red, something tall.

a total stranger one black day knocked living the hell out of me- who found forgiveness hard because my(as it happened)self he was -but now that fiend and i are such immortal friends the other's each

maybe god is a child 's hand)very carefully bring -ing to you and to me(and quite with out crushing)the papery weightless diminutive world with a hole in it out of which demons with wings would be streaming if something had(maybe they couldn't agree)not happened(and floating- ly int o

because it's Spring thingS dare to do people (& not the other way round)because it 's A pril Lives lead their own persons(in stead of everybodyelse's)but what's wholly marvellous my Darling is that you & i are more than you & i(be ca us e It's we)

We do not believe in ourselves until someone reveals that deep inside us is something valuable, worth listening to, worthy of our trust, sacred to our touch.

The theory of the free press is not that the truth will be presented completely or perfectly in any one instance, but that the truth will emerge from free discussion

Treat a man like dirt-he produces flowers.

the other guineahen died of a broken heart and we came to New York. I used to sit at a table,drawing wings with a pencil that kept breaking and i kept remembering how your mind looked when it slept for several years,to wake up asking why. So then you turned into a photograph of somebody who's trying not to laugh at somebody who's trying not to cry

Meanwhile myself et cetera lay quietly in the deep mud et cetera (dreaming, et cetera, of your smile eyes knees and of your Etcetera.)

god's terrible face brighter than a spoon collects the image of one fatal word; so that my life(which liked the sun and the moon) resembles something that has not occurred: i am a birdcage without any bird a collar looking for a dog a kiss without lips;a prayer lacking any knees but something beats within my shirt to prove he is undead who living noone is. I have never loved you dear as now i love.

my blood approves, and kisses are a far better fate than wisdom

I don't like the memories because the tears come easily, and once again I break my promise to myself for this day. It's a constant battle. a war between remembering and forgetting.

i think you will be tired of telling me & my dreams to go to hell

all by all and deep by deep and more by more they dream their sleep noone and anyone earth by april wish by spirit and if by yes

the hills like poets put on purple thought against the magnificent clamor of day tortured in gold

Me up at does out of the floor quietly Stare a poisoned mouse still who alive is asking What have i done that You wouldn't have

All in green went my love of riding on a great horse of gold into the silver dawn.

in Just- spring when the world is mud- luscious the little lame balloonman whistles far and wee and eddieandbill come running from marbles and piracies and it's spring when the world is puddle-wonderful the queer old balloonman whistles far and wee and bettyandisbel come dancing from hop-scotch and jump-rope and it's spring and the goat-footed balloonMan whistles far and wee

up into the the silence the green silence with a white earth in it you will (kiss me)go out into the morning the young morning with a warm world in it (kiss me)you will go on into the sunlight the fine sunlight with a firm day in it you will go(kiss me down into your memory and a memory and memory i) kiss me,(will go)

let's start a magazine to hell with literature we want something redblooded lousy with pure reeking with stark and fearlessly obscene but really clean get what I mean let's not spoil it let's make it serious something authentic and delirious you know something genuine like a mark in a toilet graced with guts and gutted with grace

a politician is an arse upon which everyone has sat except a man

for every mile the feet go the heart goes nine

The hardest challenge is to be yourself in a world where everyone is trying to make you be somebody else.