“a wind has blown the rain away & the sky away & all the leaves away, & the trees stand. i think i, too, have known autumn too long.”

“Really unreal world, will you perhaps dothe breathing for me while I am away?”

“I was too tired to think. I merely felt the town as a unique unreality. What was it? I knew -- the moon's picture of a town. These streets with their houses did not exist, they were but a ludicrous projection of the moon's sumptuous personality. This was a city of Pretend, created by the hypnotism of moonnight. -- Yet when I examined the moon she too seemed but a painting of a moon and the sky in which she lived a fragile echo of color. If I blew hard the whole shy mechanism would collapse gently with a neat soundless crash. I must not, or lose all.”

“who knows if the moon'sa balloon,coming out of a keen cityin the sky--filled with pretty people?( and if you and I shouldget into it,if theyshould take me and take you into their balloon,why thenwe'd go up higher with all the pretty peoplethan houses and steeples and clouds:go sailingaway and away sailing into a keen city which nobody's ever visited,wherealways it's Spring)and everyone'sin love and flowers pick themselves”

“You are tired,(I think)Of the always puzzle of living and doing;And so am I.Come with me, then,And we’ll leave it far and far away—(Only you and I, understand!)You have played,(I think)And broke the toys you were fondest of,And are a little tired now;Tired of things that break, and—Just tired.So am I.But I come with a dream in my eyes tonight,And knock with a rose at the hopeless gate of your heart—Open to me!For I will show you the places Nobody knows,And, if you like,The perfect places of Sleep.Ah, come with me!I’ll blow you that wonderful bubble, the moon,That floats forever and a day;I’ll sing you the jacinth songOf the probable stars;I will attempt the unstartled steppes of dream,Until I find the Only Flower,Which shall keep (I think) your little heartWhile the moon comes out of the sea.”

“(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide) and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart) Edward Estlin Cummings”

“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.”