Love is the whole and more than all.
E. E. CUMMINGSThe hardest fight a man has to fight is to live in a world where every single day someone is trying to make you someone you do not want to be–
More E. E. Cummings Quotes
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Existing’s tricky:but to live’s a gift.
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Here’s to opening and upward… and to yourself and up with you and up with and up with laughing.
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And now you are and I am and we’re a mystery which will never happen again.
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Take the matter of being born. What does being born mean to most people?
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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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I will take the sun in my mouth and leap into the ripe air Alive with closed eyes to dash against darkness.
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I thank you God for this most amazing day, for the leaping greenly spirits of trees, and for the blue dream of sky and for everything which is natural, which is infinite, which is yes.
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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.
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It is with roses and locomotives that my poems are competing.
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It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.
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Whenever you think or you believe or you know, you’re a lot of other people: but the moment you feel, you’re nobody-but-yourself.
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The symbol of all art is the Prism. The goal is unrealism. The method is destructive. To break up the white light of objective realism, into the secret glories which it contains.
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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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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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The most wasted of all days is one without laughter.
E. E. CUMMINGS







