Edna St Vincent Quotes & Sayings

Searching my heart for its true sorrow, This is the thing I find to be: That I am weary of words and people, Sick of the city, wanting the sea. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Not truth, but faith, it is that keeps the world alive. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Catch from the board of beauty/ Such careless crumbs as fall. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Let us not forget such words, and all they mean, as hatred, bitterness, and rancor greed, intolerance, bigotry; let us renew our faith and pledge to man, his right to be himself and free. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

He that would eat of love must eat it where it hangs. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

I know what my heart is like Since your love died: It is like a hollow ledge Holding a little pool Left there by the tide, A little tepid pool, Drying inward from the edge. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Night falls fast. Today is the past. — John Green

Time, That Is Pleased to Lengthen out the Day

Time, that is pleased to lengthen out the day
For grieving lovers parted or denied,
And pleased to hurry the sweet hours away
From such as lie enchanted side by side,
Is not my kinsman; nay, my feudal foe
Is he that in my childhood was the thief
Of all my mother's beauty, and in woe
My father bowed, and brought our house to grief.
Thus, though he think to touch with hateful frost
Your treasured curls, and your clear forehead line,
And so persuade me from you, he has lost;
Never shall he inherit what was mine.
When Time and all his tricks have done their worst,
Still will I hold you dear, and him accurst. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Heart, have no pity on this house of bone:
Shake it with dancing, break it down with joy. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Love is Not All
Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink
Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain;
Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink
And rise and sink and rise and sink again;
Love can not fill the thickened lung with breath,
Nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone;
Yet many a man is making friends with death
Even as I speak, for lack of love alone.
It well may be that in a difficult hour,
Pinned down by pain and moaning for release,
Or nagged by want past resolution's power,
I might be driven to sell your love for peace,
Or trade the memory of this night for food.
It well may be. I do not think I would. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

If Edna St. Vincent Millay was right and childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies, then my childhood ended when I was fifteen. — Katja Millay

I am waylaid by beauty. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

The greatest feminists have also been the greatest lovers. I'm thinking not only of Mary Wollstonecraft and her daughter Mary Shelley, but of Anais Nin, Edna St. Vincent Millay, and of course Sappho. You cannot divide creative juices from human juices. And as long as juicy women are equated with bad women, we will err on the side of being bad. — Erica Jong

Please don't think me negligent or rude. I am both, in effect, of course, but please don't think me either. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

I felt his gaze, I heard his moan,
And knew his hunger as my own. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Thus in the winter stands the lonely tree, Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one, Yet knows its boughs more silent than before — Edna St. Vincent Millay

I shall think of you
Whenever I am most happy, whenever I am Most sad, whenever I see a beautiful thing.
You are a burning lamp to me, a flame
The wind cannot blow out, and I shall hold you High in my hand against whatever darkness. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

I hate people but I love gatherings. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

If ever I said in grief or pride, I'd tired of honest things, I lied. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

The breath of dying lilies haunted the twilight air. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Recuerdo
We were very tired, we were very merry
We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry.
It was bare and bright, and smelled like a stable
But we looked into a fire, we leaned across a table,
We lay on a hill-top underneath the moon;
And the whistles kept blowing, and the dawn came soon.
We were very tired, we were very merry
We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry;
And you ate an apple, and I ate a pear,
From a dozen of each we had bought somewhere;
And the sky went wan, and the wind came cold,
And the sun rose dripping, a bucketful of gold.
We were very tired, we were very merry,
We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry.
We hailed "Good morrow, mother!" to a shawl-covered head,
And bought a morning paper, which neither of us read;
And she wept, "God bless you!" for the apples and pears,
And we gave her all our money but our subway fares. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Cut if you will with sleep's dull knife, the years from off your life, my friend! the years that death takes off my life, he'll take from off the other end! — Edna St. Vincent Millay

But the rain Is full of ghosts tonight — Edna St. Vincent Millay

The Englishman foxtrots as he fox-hunts, with all his being, through thickets, through ditches, over hedges, through chiffons, through waiters, over saxophones, to the victorious finish; and who goes home depends on how many the ambulance will accommodate. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Upon This Age, That Never Speaks Its Mind

Upon this age, that never speaks its mind,
This furtive age, this age endowed with power
To wake the moon with footsteps, fit an oar
Into the rowlocks of the wind, and find
What swims before his prow, what swirls behind -
Upon this gifted age, in its dark hour,
Rains from the sky a meteoric shower
Of facts . . . they lie unquestioned, uncombined.
Wisdom enough to leech us of our ill
Is daily spun; but there exists no loom
To weave it into fabric; undefiled
Proceeds pure Science, and has her say; but still
Upon this world from the collective womb
Is spewed all day the red triumphant child. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

I drank at every vine, the last was like the first. I came upon no wine so wonderful as thirst. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Life has no friend ... — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Well, I have lost you; and I lost you fairly;
In my own way, and with my full consent.
Say what you will, kings in a tumbrel rarely
Went to their deaths more proud than this one went.
Some nights of apprehension and hot weeping
I will confess; but that's permitted me;
Day dried my eyes; I was not one for keeping
Rubbed in a cage a wing that would be free.
If I had loved you less or played you slyly
I might have held you for a summer more,
But at the cost of words I value highly,
And no such summer as the one before.
Should I outlive this anguish, and men do,
I shall have only good to say of you. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Beautiful as a dandelion-blossom, golden in the green grass,
This life can be.
Common as a dandelion-blossom, beautiful in the clean grass, not beautiful
Because common, beautiful because beautiful,
Noble because common, because free. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

They say when you are missing someone that they are probably feeling the same, but I don't think it's possible for you to miss me as much as I'm missing you right now — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Am I kin to Sorrow,
That so oft
Falls the knocker of my door -
Neither loud nor soft,
But as long accustomed -
Under Sorrow's hand? — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Life isn't all beer and skittles; few of us have touched a skittle in years. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Progress-progress is the dirtiest word in the language-who ever told us- And made us believe it-that to take a step forward was necessarily, was always A good idea? — Edna St. Vincent Millay

[on going to Sunday school:] It looks like rain, and I hope it will rain cats and dogs and hammers and pitchforks and silver sugar spoons and hay ricks and paper-covered novels and picture frames and rag carpets and toothpicks and skating rinks and birds of paradise and roof gardens and burdocks and French grammars before Sunday school time. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

I am all the time talking about you, and bragging, to one person or another. I am like the Ancient Mariner, who had a tale in his heart he must unfold to all. I am always buttonholing somebody and saying, "Someday you must meet my mother." — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Life must go on, Though good men die. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

I screamed, and
lo!
Infinity
Came down and settled over me — Edna St. Vincent Millay

The heart grows weary after a little Of what it loved for a little while. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Most Wicked Words!-Forbear to Speak Them Out

Most wicked words!-forbear to speak them out.
Utter them not again; blaspheme no more
Against our love with maxims learned from Doubt:
Lest Death should get his foot inside the door.
We are surrounded by a hundred foes;
And he that at your bidding joins our feast,
I stake my heart upon it, is one of those,
Nor in their councils does he sit the least.
Hark not his whisper: he is Time's ally,
Kinsman to Death, and leman of Despair:
Believe that I shall love you till I die;
Believe; and thrust him forth; and arm the stair;
And top the walls with spikes and splintered glass
That he pass gutted should again he pass. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

A ghost in marble of a girl you knew
Who would have loved you in a day or two. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Without music I should wish to die. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Childhood is not from birth to a certain age and at a certain age. The child is grown, and puts away childish things. Childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Life is a quest and love a quarrel — Edna St. Vincent Millay

But you were something more than young and sweet
And fair, - and the long year remembers you. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Lord I do fear / Thou'st made the world too beautiful this year. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

I turn away reluctant from your light,
And stand irresolute, a mind undone,
A silly, dazzled thing deprived of sight
From having looked too long upon the sun.
Then is my daily life a narrow room
In which a little while, uncertainly,
Surrounded by impenetrable gloom,
Among familiar things grown strange to me
Making my way, I pause, and feel, and hark,
Till I become accustomed to the dark. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

This my personal death? -
That my lungs be failing
To inhale the breath
Others are exhaling? — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Listen, children: Your father is dead. From his old coats I'll make you little jackets; I'll make you little trousers From his old pants. There'll be in his pockets Things he used to put there, Keys and pennies Covered with tobacco; Dan shall have the pennies To save in his bank; Anne shall have the keys To make a pretty noise with. Life must go on, Though good men die; Anne, eat your breakfast; Dan, take your medicine; Life must go on; I forget just why. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Pour away despair and rinse the cup. Eat happiness like bread. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Siege

This I do, being mad:
Gather baubles about me,
Sit in a circle of toys, and all the time
Death beating the door in.

White jade and an orange pitcher,
Hindu idol, Chinese god, -
Maybe next year, when I'm richer -
Carved beads and a lotus pod...

And all this time
Death beating the door in. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Oh, you mean I'm a homosexual! Of course I am, and heterosexual too, but what's that got to do with my headache? — Edna St. Vincent Millay

So come on out, my dear old sweet Sister, - & we'll open our oysters together. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain; Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

She was one of those women whose features are not perfect and who in their moments of dimness may not seem even pretty, but who, excited by the blood or the spirit, become almost supernaturally beautiful. — Edmund Wilson

Under my head till morning; but the rain, Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh, Upon the glass and listen for reply ... — Edna St. Vincent Millay

I thought, as I wiped my eyes on the corner of my apron:
Penelope did this too.
And more than once: you can't keep weaving all day
And undoing it all through the night;
Your arms get tired, and the back of your neck gets tight;
And along towards morning, when you think it will never be light,
And your husband has been gone, and you don't know where, for years.
Suddenly you burst into tears;
There is simply nothing else to do.
And I thought, as I wiped my eyes on the corner of my apron:
This is an ancient gesture, authentic, antique,
In the very best tradition, classic, Greek;
Ulysses did this too.
But only as a gesture, - a gesture which implied
To the assembled throng that he was much too moved to speak.
He learned it from Penelope ...
Penelope, who really cried. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

All night there isn't a train goes by,
Though the night is still for sleep and dreaming,
But I see its cinders red on the sky,
And hear its engine steaming. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Song of a Second April
APRIL this year, not otherwise
Than April of a year ago
Is full of whispers, full of sighs,
Dazzling mud and dingy snow;
Hepaticas that pleased you so
Are here again, and butterflies.
There rings a hammering all day,
And shingles lie about the doors;
From orchards near and far away
The gray wood-pecker taps and bores,
And men are merry at their chores,
And children earnest at their play.
The larger streams run still and deep;
Noisy and swift the small brooks run.
Among the mullein stalks the sheep
Go up the hillside in the sun
Pensively; only you are gone,
You that alone I cared to keep. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Not only under ground are the brains of men Eaten by maggots, Life in itself Is nothing, An empty cup, — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Dust in an urn long since, dispersed and dead
Is great Apollo; and the happier he — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Oh, friend, forget not, when you fain would note
In me a beauty that was never mine,
How first you knew me in a book I wrote,
How first you loved me for a written line ... — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Need we say it was not love, Now that love is perished? — Edna St. Vincent Millay

There is no shelter in you anywhere. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Parrots, tortoises and redwoods live a longer life than men do; Men a longer life than dogs do; Dogs a longer life than love does. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

The longest absence is less perilous to love than the terrible trials of incessant proximity. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

What the customer demands is last year's model, cheaper. To find out what the customer needs you have to understand what the customer is doing as well as he understands it. Then you build what he needs and you educate him to the fact that he needs it. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

I know I am but summer to your heart, and not the full four seasons of the year. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

I saw at sea a great fog bank
Between two ships that struck and sank;
A thousand screams the heavens smote;
And every scream tore through my throat.
...
A fragrance such as never clings
To aught save happy living things
...
Of wind blew up to me and thrust
Into my face a miracle
Of orchard-breath, and with the smell,
I know not how such things can be!
I breathed my soul back into me. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

11.

If it should rain --(the sneezy moon
Said: Rain)--then I shall hear it soon
From shingles into gutters fall...
And know of what concerns me, all:

The garden will be wet till noon--
I may not walk-- my temper leans
To myths and legends--through the beans
Till they are dried-- lest I should spread
Diseases they have never had.

I hear the rain: it comes down straight.
Now I can sleep, I need not wait
To close the windows anywhere.

Tomorrow, it may be, I might
Do things to set the whole world right.
There's nothing I can do tonight. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

The soul can split the sky in two and let the face of God shine through. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

into the darkness they go, the wise & the lovely — Edna St. Vincent Millay

My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends
It gives a lovely light! — Edna St. Vincent Millay

I shall forget you presently, my dear, So make the most of this, your little day, Your little month, your little half a year, Ere I forget, or die, or move away, And we are done forever; by and by I shall forget you, as I said, but now, If you entreat me with your loveliest lie I will protest you with my favorite vow. I would indeed that love were longer-lived, And vows were not so brittle as they are, But so it is, and nature has contrived To struggle on without a break thus far,
Whether or not we find what we are seeking Is idle, biologically speaking. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Lost in Hell,-Persephone,
Take her head upon your knee;
Say to her, My dear, my dear,
It is not so dreadful here. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

A person who publishes a book appears willfully in public eye with his pants down. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

A wind with a wolf's head
Howled about our door,
And we burned up the chairs
And sat upon the floor. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Life must go on; I forget just why. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Music, my rampart and my only one. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Second Fig
Safe upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand:
Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand! — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Time can make soft that iron wood. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

One things there's no getting by,
I've been a wicked girl,
Says I ...
But, if I can't be sorry I might as well be glad ! — Edna St. Vincent Millay

I would I were alive again to kiss the fingers of the rain. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

When we are old and these rejoicing veins
Are frosty channels to a muted stream,
And out of all our burning there remains
No feeblest spark to fire us, even in dream,
This be our solace: that it was not said
When we were young and warm and in our prime,
Upon our couch we lay as lie the dead,
Sleeping away the unreturning time. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Gone, gone again is Summer the lovely.
She that knew not where to hide,
Is gone again like a jeweled fish from the hand, Is lost on every side.
Mute,mute, I make way to the garden, Thither where she last was seen;
The heavy foot of the frost is on the flags there,
Where her light step has been.
Gone, gone again is Summer the lovely,
Gone again on every side,
Lost again like a shining fish from the hand Into the shadowy tide. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Sweet love, sweet thorn, when lightly to my heart. I took your thrust, whereby I since am slain, And I lie disheveled in the grass apart, A sodden thing bedrenched by tears and rain. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Along my body, waking while I sleep,
Sharp to the kiss, cold to the hand as snow,
The scar of this encounter like a sword — Edna St. Vincent Millay

L am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground. So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind: Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

[L]ife isn't one thing after another, it's the same thing over and over — Edna St. Vincent Millay

She is happy where she lies
With the dust upon her eyes. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

The fabric of my faithful love
No power shall dim or ravel
Whilst I stay here - but oh, my dear,
If I should ever travel! — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Here's a song was never sung: Growing old is dying young. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Relaxing me from head to feet
Love masters me, the bitter sweet
O'er thy limbs breathing;
Yea, Eros now, the god born blind
Sweeps my soul like the mountain wind
Through the oaks seething. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

On and on eternally
Shall your altered fluid run,
Bud and bloom and go to seed;
But your singing days are done — Edna St. Vincent Millay

You see, I am a poet, and not quite right in the head, darling. It's only that. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

It may be said of me by Harper & Brothers, that although I reject their proposals, I welcome their advances. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

The undercurrent of my every thought:
To seek you, find you, have you for my own. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

So up I got in anger, And took a book I had, And put a ribbon on my hair To please a passing lad. And, "One thing there's no getting by
I've been a wicked girl," said I; But if I can't be sorry, why, I might as well be glad! — Edna St. Vincent Millay

The only people I really hate are servants. They're not really human beings at all. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

It's little I know what's in my heart,What's in my mind it's little I know,But there's that in me must up and start,And it's little I care where my feet go. — Edna St. Vincent Millay