The artist is not a man who describes, but a man who feels.
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.
More E. E. Cummings Quotes
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We can never be born enough.
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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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Unbeing dead isn’t being alive.
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You shall above all things be glad and young.
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An intelligent person fights for lost causes, realizing that others are merely effects.
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A politician is an arse upon which everyone has sat except a man.
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Nobody else can be alive for you; nor can you be alive for anybody else.
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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.
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It is with roses and locomotives that my poems are competing.
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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.
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Notice the convulsed orange inch of moon perching on this silver minute of evening.
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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.
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A pretty girl who is naked is worth a million statues.
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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 theory of the free press is not that the truth will be presented completely or perfectly in any one instance, but that the truth will emerge from free discussion.
E. E. CUMMINGS