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Someone asked me what home was and all I could think of were the stars on the tip of your tongue, the flowers sprouting from your mouth, the roots entwined in the gaps between your fingers, the ocean echoing inside of your ribcage.

E. E. Cummings

Do not hate or fear the artist in yourselves… Honor and love him do not try to possess him. Trust him as nobly as you trust tomorrow. Only the artist in yourself is more truthful than the night.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Artist Hate Love Night Trust
As small as a world as large as alone.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Alone Deep Nature Reality Wonderful World
Great men burn bridges before they come to them.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Burn Greatness Man
Yours is the light by which my spirit’s born: – you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Born Light Moon Myself Spirit Stars Sun
I love you much most beautiful darling more than anyone on the earth and I like you better than everything in the sky.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Beautiful Earth Love Sky
The snow doesn’t give a soft white damn whom it touches.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Change Nature Soft Touch
The Artist is no other than he who unlearns what he has learned, in order to know himself.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Artist Himself Learning Order
I’d rather learn from one bird how to sing than to teach ten thousand stars how not to dance.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Bird Choice Dance Learning Myself Sing Stars Teaching
Unless you love someone, nothing else makes any sense.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Fall In Love Yourself
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

Battle Be Yourself Best Deep Fight Hard Human Love Night Self Stop Wisdom World
The most wasted of all days is one without laughter.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Day Laughter Oneself Wasted Time
A poet is someone who is abnormally fond of that precision which creates movement. Which is to say the highest form of concentration possible: fascination; to report on the electrifying experience of being.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Creation Existence Experience Movement Poet Possible
Yours is the light by which my spirit’s born: – you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Born Light Moon Myself Spirit Stars Sun
Lovers alone wear sunlight.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Alone Deep Love One Liner Sun
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.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Brave Hell Mistake Nation Patriot
Somewhere i have never traveled, gladly beyond any experience, your eyes have their silence; in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, or which i cannot touch because they are too near.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Beyond Experience Eyes Happiness Myself Silence Touch Travel

Someone asked me what home was and all I could think of were the stars on the tip of your tongue, the flowers sprouting from your mouth, the roots entwined in the gaps between your fingers, the ocean echoing inside of your ribcage.

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Someone asked me what home was and all I could think of were the stars on the tip of your tongue, the flowers sprouting from your mouth, the roots entwined in the gaps between your fingers, the ocean echoing inside of your ribcage.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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