Quote

I had not thought of violets of late, The wild, shy kind that springs beneath you feet In wistful April days.

Alice Dunbar Nelson

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Alice Dunbar Nelson
Age: 60 †
Born: 1875
Born: July 19
Died: 1935
Died: September 18
Author
Educator
Journalist
Playwright
Poet
Short Story Writer
Suffragist
Writer
New Orleans
Louisiana
Alice Moore
Alice Moore Dunbar-Nelson
Alice Ruth Moore
Alice Ruth Moore Dunbar-Nelson
Days
Springs
Thought
April
Kind
Shy
Beneath
Wild
Wistful
Spring
Violets
Late
Springtime
Feet
Violet

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Blue. My God! I'm so blue that if I were a dog, I'd sit on my haunches and howl and howl and howl...
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Picturesqueness is a lost art. We may expect at anytime to hear that a collar ad is blazing its electric lights atop of the largest pyramid.
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The rainbow is elusive, and its colors but the illumination of tears.
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Every new fad or fashion at once has its denouncers from the pulpit, platform, professor's chair.
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Didacticism is the death of art.
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In every race, in every nation, and in every clime in every period of history there is always an eager-eyed group of youthful patriots who seriously set themselves to right the wrongs done to their race or nation or . . . art or self-expression.
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It's punishment to be compelled to do what one doesn't wish.
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Willow trees are kind, Dear God. They will not bear a body on their limbs.
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I am profoundly in the D's - discouraged, depressed, disheartened, disgusted.
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