black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

You and I are more than you and I because it’s we.

E. E. Cummings

If a poet is anybody, he is somebody to whom things made matter very little – somebody who is obsessed by Making.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Creation Obsession Poet Writing
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.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Beautiful Fear Love Moon Myself Relationship Secret Sing Sun True World
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
May my heart always be open to little birds who are the secrets of living.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Heart Live Myself Open Secret
Because you aren’t afraid to kiss the dirt (and consequently dare to climb the sky)
E. E. CUMMINGS

Afraid Dare Kiss Sky
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.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Art Break Deep Destruction Glory Goal Light Reality Secret White
The snow doesn’t give a soft white damn whom it touches.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Change Nature Soft Touch
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
An intelligent person fights for lost causes, realizing that others are merely effects.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Fight Intelligence Lost Person
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
A poet is someone who is abnormally fond of that precision which creates movement. Which is to say the highest form of concentration possible: fascination; to report on the electrifying experience of being.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Creation Existence Experience Movement Poet Possible
Lovers alone wear sunlight.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Alone Deep Love One Liner Sun
Lovers alone wear sunlight.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Alone Deep Love One Liner Sun
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

Fingers Flower Home Ocean Stars Thinking Tongue
To destroy is always the first step in any creation.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Creation Deep Destroy Wisdom
Progress is a comfortable disease.
E. E. CUMMINGS

Comfortable One Liner Progress Sick

You and I are more than you and I because it’s we.

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You and I are more than you and I because it’s we.

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