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Please give me some good advice in your next letter. I promise not to follow it.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
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Edna St. Vincent Millay
Age: 58 †
Born: 1892
Born: February 22
Died: 1950
Died: October 19
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Rockland
Maine
Nancy Boyd
Edna St. Vincent Millay
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More quotes by Edna St. Vincent Millay
We were so wholly one I had not thought That we could die apart. I had not thought That I could move,—and you be stiff and still! That I could speak,—and you perforce be dumb! I think our heart-strings were, like warp and woof In some firm fabric, woven in and out Your golden filaments in fair design Across my duller fibre.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
I am not a tentative person. Whatever I do, I give up my whole self to it.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Blessed be Death, that cuts in marble What would have sunk to dust!
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Her lawn looks like a meadow, And if she mows the place She leaves the clover standing And the Queen Anne's Lace.
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
Not poppy, nor mandrake, Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world, Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep, Which thou owest yesterday.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Dust in an urn long since, dispersed and dead Is great Apollo and the happier he
Edna St. Vincent Millay
This book, when I am dead, will be A little faint perfume of me. People who knew me well will say, She really used to think that way.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Although we sometimes did without a few of life's necessities, we rarely lacked for its luxuries.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
I have loved badly, loved the great Too soon, withdrawn my words too late And eaten in an echoing hall Alone and from a chipped plate The words that I withdrew too late.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
I make bean stalks, I'm A builder, like yourself.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
All my life, Following Care along the dusty road, Have I looked back on loveliness and sighed.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
When you are corn and roses and at rest I shall endure, a dense and sanguine ghost To haunt the scene where I was happiest To bend above the thing I loved the most
Edna St. Vincent Millay
What should I be but just what I am?
Edna St. Vincent Millay
I do not think there is a woman in whom the roots of passion shoot deeper than in me.
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
The heart grows weary after a little Of what it loved for a little while.
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
Stranger, pause and look From the dust of ages Lift this little book, Turn the tattered pages, Read me, do not let me die! Search the fading letters finding Steadfast in the broken binding All that once was I!
Edna St. Vincent Millay
To what purpose, April, do you return again? Beauty is not enough.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
