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. CUMMINGSYours is the light by which my spirit’s born: – you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars.
More E. E. Cummings Quotes
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I fear no fate(for you are my fate, my sweet)i want no world(for beautiful you are my world, my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you here is the deepest secret nobody knows.
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I thank you God for this most amazing day, for the leaping greenly spirits of trees, and for the blue dream of sky and for everything which is natural, which is infinite, which is yes.
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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.
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Here 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)
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As small as a world as large as alone.
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Take the matter of being born. What does being born mean to most people?
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The 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.
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May my heart always be open to little birds who are the secrets of living.
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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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A politician is an arse upon which everyone has sat except a man.
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Love is the voice under all silences, the hope which has no opposite in fear.
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And now you are and I am and we’re a mystery which will never happen again.
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And now you are and I am and we’re a mystery which will never happen again.
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Here’s to opening and upward… and to yourself and up with you and up with and up with laughing.
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Unbeing dead isn’t being alive.
E. E. CUMMINGS