E. E. Cummings - Spring Quotes

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And still the mad magnificent herald Spring assembles beauty from forgetfulness with the wild trump of April:witchery of sound and odour drives the wingless thing man forth in the bright air...

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

E. E. Cummings
Wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the world my blood approves,
and kisses are a better fate
than wisdom

E. E. Cummings
Always it's Spring)and everyone's in love and flowers pick themselves.

E. E. Cummings
So, when kiss Spring comes
we'll kiss each kiss other on kiss the kiss
lips because tic clocks tock don't make
a toctic difference
to kisskiss you and to
kiss me.

E. E. Cummings
O sweet spontaneous
earth how often
has the naughty thumb of science prodded
thy
beauty
thou answereth them only with
spring.

E. E. Cummings
Your slightest look easily will unclose me, though I have closed myself as fingers, you open petal by petal myself a Spring opens her first rose.

E. E. Cummings
Anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn't he danced his did.

E. E. Cummings
A distinct throat. Which breathes. A head: small, smaller than a flower. With eyes and with lips. Lips more slender than light; a smile how carefully and slowly made, a smile made entirely of dream. Eyes deeper than Spring. Eyes darker than Spring, more new... These, these are the further miracles... the breasts. Thighs. The All which is beyond comprehension — the All which is perpetually discovered, yet undiscovered: sexual, sweet, Alive!

E. E. Cummings
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)

E. E. Cummings
It is with roses and locomotives (not to mention acrobats Spring electricity Coney Island the 4th of July the eyes of mice and Niagara Falls) that my poems are competing.

E. E. Cummings