Let the snake wait under his weed and the writing be of words, slow and quick, sharp to strike, quiet to wait,… — William Carlos Williams Copy Share Image
Compose. (No ideas but in things) Invent! Saxifrage is my flower that splits the rocks. — 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
“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
