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May my heart always be open to little birds who are the secrets of living.

E. E. Cummings

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
If a poet is anybody, he is somebody to whom things made matter very little – somebody who is obsessed by Making.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Creation Obsession Poet Writing
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
May my heart always be open to little birds who are the secrets of living.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Heart Live Myself Open Secret
Well, write poetry, for God’s sake, it’s the only thing that matters.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Art God Poetry Writing
Listen; there’s a hell of a good universe next door: let’s go.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Goodness Let Go Listening Universe
Here’s to opening and upward… and to yourself and up with you and up with and up with laughing.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Laughter Open Yourself
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
A politician is an arse upon which everyone has sat except a man.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Exception Man Politics
Time is a tree (this life one leaf) but love is the sky and i am for you just so long and long enough.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Enough Life Sky Time Tree Yourself
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
Always the beautiful answer who asks a more beautiful question.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Beautiful Question
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

Fingers Flower Home Ocean Stars Thinking Tongue
Sweet springtime is my time is your time is our time for springtime is love time and viva sweet love.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Love Ourselves Relationship Spring Time
Existing’s tricky:but to live’s a gift.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Existence Gift Live Trick
I’d rather have two good friends, than 500,000 admirers.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Choice Friendship Goodness Myself Worth

May my heart always be open to little birds who are the secrets of living.

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May my heart always be open to little birds who are the secrets of living.

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