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. CUMMINGSWell, write poetry, for God’s sake, it’s the only thing that matters.
More E. E. Cummings Quotes
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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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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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Only by you my heart always moves.
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I love you much most beautiful darling more than anyone on the earth and I like you better than everything in the sky.
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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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I love you much most beautiful darling more than anyone on the earth and I like you better than everything in the sky.
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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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To be nobody-but-yourself – in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else – means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting.
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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.
E. E. CUMMINGS -
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.
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Equality is what does not exist among mortals.
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Suppose Life is an old man carrying flowers on his head.
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Lovers alone wear sunlight.
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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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The artist is not a man who describes, but a man who feels.
E. E. CUMMINGS