e. e. cummings Quotes - Page 10

No evil is so worse than worst you fall in hate with love.

one day anyone died i guess (and noone stooped to kiss his face) busy folk buried them side by side little by little and was by was

And the coolness of your smile is stirringofbirds between my arms

mr youse needn't be so spry concernin questions arty each has his tastes but as for i i likes a certain party gimme the he-man's solid bliss for youse ideas i'll match youse a pretty girl who naked is is worth a million statues

may came home with a smooth round stone as small as a world and as large as alone.

things which in my mind blossom will stumble beneath a clumsiest disguise appear capable of fragility and indecision

Women and men(both little and small) cared for anyone not at all they sowed their isn’t they reaped their same sun moon stars rain

Next to of course god America i / love you land of the pilgrims and so forth oh

What if a dawn of a doom of a dream bites this universe in two, peels forever out of his grave, and sprinkles nowhere with me and you?

Miracles are to come. With you I leave a remembrance of miracles: they are by somebody who can love and who shall be continually reborn, a human being.

who knows if the moon's a balloon,coming out of a keen city in the sky--filled with pretty people? ( and if you and I should get into it,if they should take me and take you into their balloon, why then we'd go up higher with all the pretty people than houses and steeples and clouds: go sailing away and away sailing into a keen city which nobody's ever visited,where always it's Spring)and everyone's in love and flowers pick themselves

When god decided to invent everything he took one reath bigger than a circustent and everything began

Unlove's the heavenless hell and the homeless home.

someones married their everyones laughed their cryings and did their dance (sleep wake hope and then) they said their nevers they slept their dream

love being such, or such, the normal corners of your heart will never guess how much my wonderful jealousy is dark

If 180 million people want to be undead, that’s their funeral, but I happen to like being alive.

In just - Spring when the world is mud- luscious the little lame balloonman whistles far and wee

my mother hoped that i would die etcetera bravely of course my father used to become hoarse talking about how it was a privilege and if only he could

all nothing's only our hugest home; the most who die, the more we live

in time of daffodils(who know the goal of living is to grow) forgetting why,remember how in time of lilacs who proclaim the aim of waking is to dream, remember so(forgetting seem) in time of roses(who amaze our now and here with paradise) forgetting if,remember yes in time of all sweet things beyond whatever mind may comprehend, remember seek(forgetting find) and in a mystery to be (when time from time shall set us free) forgetting me,remember me

because it's Spring thingS dare to do people (& not the other way round)because it 's A pril Lives lead their own persons(in stead of everybodyelse's)but what's wholly marvellous my Darling is that you & i are more than you & i(be ca us e It's we)

What concerns me fundamentaly is a meteoric burlesk melodrama, born of the immemorial adage love will find a way.

the poems to come are for you and for me and are not for mostpeople... you and i are human beings; mostpeople are snobs.

All in green went my love riding

Buffalo Bill's defunct