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. CUMMINGSI 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. 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. CUMMINGSThe voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses.
E. E. CUMMINGSLove is the voice under all silences, the hope which has no opposite in fear.
E. E. CUMMINGSTime 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. CUMMINGSHere’s to opening and upward… and to yourself and up with you and up with and up with laughing.
E. E. CUMMINGSAnd the reason that i laugh and breathe is oh love.
E. E. CUMMINGSMay my heart always be open to little birds who are the secrets of living.
E. E. CUMMINGSI’d rather learn from one bird how to sing than to teach ten thousand stars how not to dance.
E. E. CUMMINGSLovers alone wear sunlight.
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.
E. E. CUMMINGSMost people are perfectly afraid of silence.
E. E. CUMMINGSTomorrow is our permanent address.
E. E. CUMMINGSOnce we believe in ourselves, we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight, or any experience that reveals the human spirit.
E. E. CUMMINGSThe snow doesn’t give a soft white damn whom it touches.
E. E. CUMMINGSI will take the sun in my mouth and leap into the ripe air Alive with closed eyes to dash against darkness.
E. E. CUMMINGS