E. E. Cummings Quotes
Along the brittle treacherous bright streetsof memory comes my heart,singing likean idiot,whispering like a drunken man
Along the brittle treacherous bright streets
of memory comes my heart,singing like
an idiot,whispering like a drunken man (E. E. Cummings)
of memory comes my heart,singing like
an idiot,whispering like a drunken man (E. E. Cummings)