Love is the voice under all silences, the hope which has no opposite in fear; the strength so strong mere force is feebleness: the truth more first than sun, more last than star.
E. E. CUMMINGSLove is the voice under all silences, the hope which has no opposite in fear; the strength so strong mere force is feebleness: the truth more first than sun, more last than star.
E. E. CUMMINGSAlways the beautiful answer who asks a more beautiful question.
E. E. CUMMINGSThe eyes of my eyes are opened.
E. E. CUMMINGSThe eyes of my eyes are opened.
E. E. CUMMINGSNotice the convulsed orange inch of moon perching on this silver minute of evening.
E. E. CUMMINGSThe 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.
E. E. CUMMINGSWhenever 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.
E. E. CUMMINGSTake the matter of being born. What does being born mean to most people?
E. E. CUMMINGSBe of love a little more careful than of anything.
E. E. CUMMINGSIf a poet is anybody, he is somebody to whom things made matter very little – somebody who is obsessed by Making.
E. E. CUMMINGSAs small as a world as large as alone.
E. E. CUMMINGSI love you much most beautiful darling more than anyone on the earth and I like you better than everything in the sky.
E. E. CUMMINGSHere is the deepest secret nobody knows. Here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide. And this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)
E. E. CUMMINGSIt takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.
E. E. CUMMINGSWhenever 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.
E. E. CUMMINGSProgress is a comfortable disease.
E. E. CUMMINGS