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That which has quelled me, lives with me, Accomplice in catastrophe.

Edna St. Vincent Millay

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Edna St. Vincent Millay
Age: 58 †
Born: 1892
Born: February 22
Died: 1950
Died: October 19
Librettist
Playwright
Poet
Translator
Writer
Rockland
Maine
Nancy Boyd
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Accomplice
Accomplices
Catastrophe
Lives

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A person who publishes a book appears willfully in public eye with his pants down.
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I am not afraid of lawyers as I used to be. They are lambs in wolves' clothing.
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After the feet of beauty fly my own.
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That is my being, the madness of an unaccustomed mood.
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Lord I do fear / Thou'st made the world too beautiful this year.
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And all the loveliest things there be come simply, so it seems to me.
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Need we say it was not love, Now that love is perished?
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... but the rain Is full of ghosts tonight
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When you publish something, it is very much as if you pulled your pants down in public. If what you have written is good, nobody can hurt you if what you have written is bad, nobody can help you.
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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.
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Life must go on I forget just why.
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No one but Night, with tears on her dark face, watches beside me in this windy place.
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You see, I am a poet, and not quite right in the head, darling. It’s only that.
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A grave is such a quiet place.
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What terrible fear causes Man to address the Void as Thou?
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pity me that the heart is slow to learn what the swift mind beholds at every turn.
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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
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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.
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What should I be but just what I am?
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Euclid alone Has looked on Beauty bare. Fortunate they Who, though once only and then but far away, Have heard her massive sandal set on stone.
Edna St. Vincent Millay