We do not believe in ourselves until someone reveals that deep inside us something is valuable, worth listening to, worthy of our trust, sacred to our touch. Once we believe in ourselves we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight or any experience that reveals the human spirit.
E. E. CUMMINGSSomewhere 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.
More E. E. Cummings Quotes
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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.
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Lovers alone wear sunlight.
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The snow doesn’t give a soft white damn whom it touches.
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You shall above all things be glad and young For if you’re young, whatever life you wear it will become you; and if you are glad whatever’s living will yourself become.
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It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.
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Great men burn bridges before they come to them.
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A pretty girl who is naked is worth a million statues.
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The first step to expanding your reality is to discard the tendency to exclude things from possibility.
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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.
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You and I are more than you and I because it’s we.
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May my heart always be open to little birds, who are the secrets of living. Whatever they sing is better than to know. And if men should not hear them – then men are old.
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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.
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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.
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Your head is a living forest full of songbirds.
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As small as a world as large as alone.
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