Top William Carlos Williams Quotes

William Carlos Williams Biography

William Carlos Williams (September 17, 1883 – March 4, 1963) was an American poet and physician closely associated with modernism and imagism.

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William Carlos Williams Quotes

Man has survived hitherto because he was too ignorant to know how to realise his wishes- Now that he can realise them, he must either change them or perish

Change, Ignorant, Man, Men, Survived, Wish

My first poem was a bolt from the blue … it broke a spell of disillusion and suicidal despondence. … it filled me with soul satisfying joy

Blue, Broke, Despondence, Filled, Joy, Suicidal

Compose. (No ideas but in things) Invent! Saxifrage is my flower that splits the rocks.

Flower, Ideas, Rocks, Thinking, Thoughtful

It is not what you say that matters but the manner in which you say it; there lies the secret of the ages.

Age, Ages, Lying, Say, Secret

When a man makes a poem, makes it, mind you, he takes words as he finds them interrelated about him and composes them - without distortion which would mar their exact significances - into an intense expression of his perceptions and ardors that they may constitute a revelation in the speech that he uses. It isn't what he says that counts as a work of art, it's what he makes, with such intensity of perception that it lives with an intrinsic movement of its own to verify its authenticity.

Art, Composes, Expression, Men, Movement, Work

There's nothing sentimental about a machine, and: A poem is a small (or large) machine made of words.

Large, Machine, Machines, Made, Poem, Sentimental

No wreaths please - especially no hothouse flowers. Some common memento is better, something he prized and is known by: his old clothes - a few books perhaps.

Book, Clothes, Common, Flower, Memento, Old

we, in that instant, lost, breathless to be witnesses, as if we stood ourselves refreshed among the shining fauna of that fire.

Breathless, Fire, Refreshed, Shining, Vision

A poem is a small machine made of words. . . Its movement is intrinsic, undulant, a physical more than a literary character.

Character, Literary, Machines, Movement, Undulant, Words

One thing I am convinced more and more is true, and that is this: The only way to be truly happy is to make others happy. When you realize that and take advantage of the fact, everything is made perfect.

Convinced, Make, Make Others Happy, Optimistic, Perfect, Take

A poem is a small machine made of words.

Machine, Machines, Made, Poem, Small, Words

A poem is a small machine made out of words.

Machine, Machines, Made, Poem, Small, Words

There is nothing beginning nor end to the imagination but it delights in its own seasons reversing the usual order at will.

Beginning, Imagination, Nothing, Order, Usual

No ideas but in things.

Crafts, Ideas, No Idea, Things

the set pieces of your faces stir me - leading citizens - but not in the same way.

Citizens, Pieces, Set, Stir, Way

so much depends upon a red wheel barrow glazed with rain water beside the white chickens.

Depends, Rain, Red, Water, Wheel, White

It is not fair to be old, to put on a brown sweater.

Brown, Fair, Fairs, Sweater, Sweaters

I think of the poetry of René Char and all he must have seen and suffered that has brought him to speak only of sedgy rivers, of daffodils and tulips whose roots they water, even to the free-flowing river that laves the rootlets of those sweet-scented flowers that people the milky way

Flower, Rene, Roots, Suffered, Sweet, Thinking

THESE are the desolate, dark weeks when nature in its barrenness equals the stupidity of man. The year plunges into night and the heart plunges lower than night.

Dark, Heart, Man, Night, Stupidity

I think these days when there is so little to believe in——when the old loyalties——God, country, and the hope of Heaven——aren't very real, we are more dependent than we should be on our friends. The only thing left to believe in——someone who seems beautiful.

Beautiful, Country, Days, Hope, Loyalty

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William Carlos Williams Biography

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