I'd rather have two good friends, than 500,000 admirers.
E. E. CummingsRead
96 quotes
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing than to teach ten thousand stars how not to dance.
E. E. CummingsRead
It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.
E. E. CummingsRead
When god decided to invent everything he took one reath bigger than a circustent and everything began
E. E. CummingsRead
The Artist is no other than he who unlearns what he has learned, in order to know himself.
E. E. CummingsRead
Nobody else can be alive for you; nor can you be alive for anybody else.
E. E. CummingsRead
If a poet is anybody, he is somebody to whom things made matter very little - somebody who is obsessed by Making.
E. E. CummingsRead
A politician is an arse upon which everyone has sat except a man.
E. E. CummingsRead
The sweet small clumsy feet of april came into the ragged meadow of my soul.
E. E. CummingsRead
Humanity I love you because when you're hard up you pawn your intelligence to buy a drink.
E. E. CummingsRead
Treat a man like dirt-he produces flowers.
E. E. CummingsRead
I like my body when it is with your body. It is so quite new a thing. Muscles better and nerves more.
E. E. CummingsRead
What if a dawn of a doom of a dream bites this universe in two, peels forever out of his grave, and sprinkles nowhere with me and you?
E. E. CummingsRead
i have found what you are like the rain (Who feathers frightened fields with the superior dust-of-sleep. wields easily the pale club of the wind and swirled justly souls of flower strike the air in utterable coolness deeds of gren thrilling light with thinned newfragile yellows lurch and.press --in the woods which stutter and sing And the coolness of your smile is stirringofbirds between my arms;but i should rather than anything have(almost when hugeness will shut quietly)almost, your kiss
E. E. CummingsRead
Kisses are a better fate than wisdom.
E. E. CummingsRead
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. CummingsRead
since the thing perhaps is to eat flowers and not to be afraid
E. E. CummingsRead
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility
E. E. CummingsRead
The three saddest things are the ill wanting to be well, the poor wanting to be rich, and the constant traveler saying 'anywhere but here'.
E. E. CummingsRead
one pierced moment whiter than the rest -turning from the tremendous lie of sleep i watch the roses of the day grow deep.
E. E. CummingsRead
n OthI n g can s urPas s the m y SteR y of s tilLnes s
E. E. CummingsRead