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. CUMMINGSLovers alone wear sunlight.
More E. E. Cummings Quotes
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I’d rather learn from one bird how to sing than to teach ten thousand stars how not to dance.
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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 -
Equality is what does not exist among mortals.
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Once we believe in ourselves, we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight, or any experience that reveals the human spirit.
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The hardest fight a man has to fight is to live in a world where every single day someone is trying to make you someone you do not want to be–
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Unless you love someone, nothing else makes any sense.
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An intelligent person fights for lost causes, realizing that others are merely effects.
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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.
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Most people are perfectly afraid of silence.
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I’d rather learn from one bird how to sing than to teach ten thousand stars how not to dance.
E. E. CUMMINGS -
Do not hate or fear the artist in yourselves… Honor and love him do not try to possess him. Trust him as nobly as you trust tomorrow. Only the artist in yourself is more truthful than the night.
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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.
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Trust your heart if the seas catch fire, live by love though the stars walk backward.
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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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The Artist is no other than he who unlearns what he has learned, in order to know himself.
E. E. CUMMINGS