black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

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

E. E. Cummings

The snow doesn’t give a soft white damn whom it touches.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Change Nature Soft Touch
Most people are perfectly afraid of silence.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Afraid People Silence
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
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
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.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Deep Eyes Myself Rose Understand Voice
It is with roses and locomotives that my poems are competing.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Competition Myself Poem Rose
Unbeing dead isn’t being alive.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Alive Death Deep One Liner
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
Yours is the light by which my spirit’s born: – you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Born Light Moon Myself Spirit Stars Sun
The three saddest things are the ill wanting to be well, the poor wanting to be rich, and the constant traveler saying ‘anywhere but here’.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Health Money Place Poor Rich Sad Sick Travel
Twice I have lived forever in a smile.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Forever Live Myself Smile True Love
Love is the whole and more than all.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Love One Liner
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.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Believe Feeling Moments People Thinking Yourself
The Artist is no other than he who unlearns what he has learned, in order to know himself.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Artist Himself Learning Order
You have played, (I think) And broke the toys you were fondest of, And are a little tired now; Tired of things that break, and— Just tired. So am I.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Break Myself Play Thinking Toy
Because you aren’t afraid to kiss the dirt (and consequently dare to climb the sky)
E. E. CUMMINGS

Afraid Dare Kiss Sky

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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