E.E. Cummings Quotes

to be nobody but yourself- in a world which is doing its best night and day to make you everybody else - means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight and never stop fighting.
E.E. Cummings
To be nobody-but-yourself-in a world which is doing its best night and day to make you everybody else-means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight and never stop fighting.
E.E. Cummings
a politician is an arse upon which everyone has sat except a man.
E.E. Cummings
To be nobody-but-yourself-in a world which is doing its best night and day to make you everybody else-means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight and never stop fighting.
E.E. Cummings
a politician is an arse upon which everyone has sat except a man.
E.E. Cummings
I thank You God for this most amazing day for the leaping greenly spirits of trees and a blue true dream of sky and for everything which is natural which is infinite which is yes.
E.E. Cummings
unlove's the heavenless hell and homeless home . . . lovers alone wear sunlight.
E.E. Cummings
all ignorance toboggans into know and trudges up to ignorance again.
E.E. Cummings
his lips drink water but his heart drinks wine
E.E. Cummings
i will wade out till my thighs are steeped in burning flowersI will take the sun in my mouthand leap into the ripe air Alive with closed eyesto dash against darkness in the sleeping curves of my bodyShall enter fingers of smooth masterywith chasteness of sea-girls Will i complete the mystery of my fleshI will rise After a thousand yearslippingflowers And set my teeth in the silver of the moon
E.E. Cummings
who knows if the moon'sa balloon,coming out of a keen cityin the sky--filled with pretty people?( and if you and I shouldget into it,if theyshould take me and take you into their balloon,why thenwe'd go up higher with all the pretty peoplethan houses and steeples and clouds:go sailingaway and away sailing into a keen city which nobody's ever visited,wherealways it's Spring)and everyone'sin love and flowers pick themselves
E.E. Cummings
Take the matter of being born. What does being born mean to most people?
E.E. Cummings
Only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses. Nobody, not even the rain has such small hands.
E.E. Cummings
For whatever we lose (like a you or a me),It's always our self we find in the sea.
E.E. Cummings
a politician is an arse uponwhich everyone has sat except a man
E.E. Cummings
Once we believe in ourselves, we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight, or any experience that reveals the human spirit
E.E. Cummings
... (lady i willtouch you with my mind.) Touchyou, that is all/lightly and you utterly will becomewith infinite care/ the poem which i do not write.
E.E. Cummings
You are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing.
E.E. Cummings
it's springand the goat-footedballoonMan whistlesfarandwee
E.E. Cummings
i carry your heart with me(i carry it inmy heart)i am never without it(anywherei go you go,my dear;and whatever is doneby only me is your doing,my darling)
E.E. Cummings
As small as a world as large as alone.
E.E. Cummings
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.
E.E. Cummings
I don't know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all the roses. Nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands.
E.E. Cummings
no time agoor else a lifewalking in the darki met christjesus)my heartflopped overand lay stillwhile he passed(asclose as i’m to youyes closermade of nothingexcept loneliness.
E.E. Cummings
Tumbling-hair picker of buttercups violetsdandelionsAnd the big bullying daisies through the field wonderfulwith eyes a little sorryAnother comes also picking flowers
E.E. Cummings
Miracles are to come. With you I leave a remembrance of miracles: they are by somebody who can loveand who shall be continually reborn, a human being.
E.E. Cummings
I fear no fate for you are my fate, my sweet.
E.E. Cummings
For surely as each November has its April, mysteries only are significant; and one mystery-of-mysteries creates them all: nothing false and possible is love(who's imagined,therefore limitless)love's to giving as to keeping's give;as yes is to if,love is to yes
E.E. Cummings
l(aleaffalls)oneliness
E.E. Cummings
How do you like your blue-eyed boy Mr Death?
E.E. Cummings
i thank You God for most this amazingday: for the leaping greenly spirits of treesand a blue true dream of sky; and for everythingwhich is natural which is infinite which is yes(i who have died am alive again today,and this is the sun's birthday; this is the birthday of life and of love and wings: and of the gaygreat happening illimitably earth)how should tasting touching hearing seeingbreathing any---lifted from the noof all nothing---human merely beingdoubt unimaginably You?(now the ears of my ears awake andnow the eyes of my eyes are opened)
E.E. Cummings
may I be I is the only prayer
E.E. Cummings
to hell with literaturewe want something redblooded
E.E. Cummings
a pretty girl, who naked isis worth a million statues
E.E. Cummings
mr youse needn't be so spryconcernin questions artyeach has his tastes but as for ii likes a certain partygimme the he-man's solid blissfor youse ideas i'll match yousea pretty girl who naked isis worth a million statues
E.E. Cummings
Anybody can learn to think, or believe, or know, but not a single human being can be taught to feel... the moment you feel, you're nobody ― but-yourself ― in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else ― means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight, and never stop fighting.
E.E. Cummings
It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.
E.E. Cummings
for every mile the feet gothe heart goes nine
E.E. Cummings
love being such, or such,the normal corners of your heartwill never guess how muchmy wonderful jealousy is dark
E.E. Cummings
O gouvernment francais, I think it was not very clever of You to put this terrible doll in La Ferte; for when Governments are found dead there is always a little doll on top of them, pulling and tweaking with his little hands to get back at the microscopic knife which sticks firmly in the quiet meat of their hearts.
E.E. Cummings
Awake,chaos:we have napped.
E.E. Cummings
i think you will be tired of tellingme & my dreams to go to hell
E.E. Cummings
deeds cannot dream what dreams can do
E.E. Cummings
there's time for laughing and there's time for crying— for hoping for despair for peace for longing —a time for growing and a time for dying: a night for silence and a day for singingbut more than all(as all your more than eyes tell me)there is a time for timelessness
E.E. Cummings
And now you are and I am and we're a mystery which will never happen again.
E.E. Cummings
for whenever men are right they are not young
E.E. Cummings
something genuine like a mark in a toilet, graced with guts and gutted with grace
E.E. Cummings
hate blows a bubble of despair intohugeness world system universe and bang-fear buries a tomorrow under woeand up comes yesterday most green and young
E.E. Cummings
if everything happens that can't be done(and anything's righterthan bookscould plan)the stupidest teacher will almost guess(with a runskiparound we go yes)there's nothing as something as oneone hasn't a why or because or although(and buds know betterthan booksdon't grow)one's anything old being everything new(with a whatwhicharound we come who)one's everyanything soso world is a leaf so tree is a bough(and birds sing sweeterthan bookstell how)so here is away and so your is a my(with a downuparound again fly)forever was never till nownow i love you and you love me(and books are shutterthan bookscan be)and deep in the high that does nothing but fall(with a shouteacharound we go all)there's somebody calling who's wewe're anything brighter than even the sun(we're everything greaterthan booksmight mean)we're everanything more than believe(with a spinleapalive we're alive)we're wonderful one times one
E.E. Cummings
You have played, (I think) And broke the toys you were fondest of, And are a little tired now; Tired of things that break, and— Just tired. So am I.
E.E. Cummings
Such was a poet and shall be and is-who'll solve the depths of horror to defend a sunbeam's architecture with his life: and carve immortal jungles of despair to hold a mountain's heartbeat in his hand.
E.E. Cummings
Humanity i love you because youare perpetually putting the secret oflife in your pants and forgettingit's there and sitting downon itand because you areforever making poems in the lapof death Humanityi hate you
E.E. Cummings
sweet spring is yourtime is my time is ourtime for springtime is lovetimeand viva sweet love(all the merry little birds areflying in the floating in thevery spirits singing inare winging in the blossoming)lovers go and lovers comeawandering awonderingbut any two are perfectlyalone there's nobody else alive(such a sky and such a suni never knew and neither did youand everybody never breathedquite so many kinds of yes)not a tree can count his leaveseach herself by openingbut shining who by thousands meanonly one amazing thing(secretly adoring shylytiny winging darting floatingmerry in the blossomingalways joyful selves are singing)sweet spring is yourtime is my time is ourtime for springtime is lovetimeand viva sweet love
E.E. Cummings
since the thing perhaps isto eat flowers and not to be afraid
E.E. Cummings
when man determined to destroy himself he picked the was of shall and finding only why smashed it into because
E.E. Cummings
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility:whose texture compels me with the colour of its countries, rendering death and forever with each breathing (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) nobody,not even the rain, has such small hands-excerpt of #35 from "100 Selected Poems
E.E. Cummings
may my heart always be open to littlebirds who are the secrets of livingwhatever they sing is better than to knowand if men should not hear them men are oldmay my mind stroll about hungryand fearless and thirsty and suppleand even if it's sunday may i be wrongfor whenever men are right they are not youngand may myself do nothing usefullyand love yourself so more than trulythere's never been quite such a fool who could failpulling all the sky over him with one smile
E.E. Cummings
may came home with a smooth round stoneas small as a world and as large as alone.
E.E. Cummings
life's not a paragraphAnd death i think is no parenthesis
E.E. Cummings
To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best day and night to make you like everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight and never stop fighting.
E.E. Cummings