Sure love is cruel and selfish and totally obtuse-- at least, blinded by the light, young love is. — William Carlos Williams Copy Share Image
Among the rain and lights I saw the figure 5 in gold on a red firetruck moving tense unheeded to gong clangs… — William Carlos Williams Copy Share Image
Say it, no ideas but in things - nothing but the blank faces of the houses and cylindrical trees bent, forked by… — William Carlos Williams Copy Share Image
At our age the imagination across the sorry facts lifts us to make roses stand before thorns. Sure love is cruel and… — William Carlos Williams Copy Share Image
“unsignificantly off the coast there was a splash quite unnoticed this was Icarus drowning” — William Carlos Williams Copy Share Image
“You're a romanticist. What do you think a man is, a papaya? To digest your dinner? In pill form?” — William Carlos Williams Copy Share Image
Imagination though it cannot wipe out the sting of remorse can instruct the mind in its proper uses. — William Carlos Williams Copy Share Image
A poem is this:/A nuance of sound/delicately operating/upon a cataract of sense/...the particulars/of a song waking/upon a bed of sound. — William Carlos Williams Copy Share Image
