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. CUMMINGSSomeone 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. CUMMINGSAmerica 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. CUMMINGSI fear no fate(for you are my fate, my sweet)i want no world(for beautiful you are my world, my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you here is the deepest secret nobody knows.
E. E. CUMMINGSOnce we believe in ourselves, we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight, or any experience that reveals the human spirit.
E. E. CUMMINGSYou shall above all things be glad and young.
E. E. CUMMINGSIt takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.
E. E. CUMMINGSAmerica 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. CUMMINGSI 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.
E. E. CUMMINGSThe eyes of my eyes are opened.
E. E. CUMMINGSAnd the reason that i laugh and breathe is oh love.
E. E. CUMMINGSYou and I are more than you and I because it’s we.
E. E. CUMMINGSBe of love a little more careful than of anything.
E. E. CUMMINGSThe artist is not a man who describes, but a man who feels.
E. E. CUMMINGSMay 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.
E. E. CUMMINGSExisting’s tricky:but to live’s a gift.
E. E. CUMMINGSAs small as a world as large as alone.
E. E. CUMMINGS