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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
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
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Rockland
Maine
Nancy Boyd
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Love
Missing
Think
Probably
Thinking
Feeling
Possible
Feelings
Sad
Someone
Longing
Right
Sadness
Much
Miss
More quotes by Edna St. Vincent Millay
Music my rampart, and my only one.
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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.
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A grave is such a quiet place.
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Euclid alone has looked on Beauty bare. Let all who prate of Beauty hold their peace, And lay them prone upon the earth and cease To ponder on themselves, the while they stare At nothing, intricately drawn nowhere.
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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 !
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Blessed be Death, that cuts in marble What would have sunk to dust!
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I shall die, but that is all that I shall do for Death I am not on his pay-roll.
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Life has no friend.
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Heap not on this mound roses that she loved so well why bewilder her with roses that she cannot see or smell.
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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.
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If I love you Wednesday, What is that to you? I do not love you Thursday - so much is true.
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O world, I cannot hold thee close enough!
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All my life, Following Care along the dusty road, Have I looked back on loveliness and sighed.
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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.
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A person who publishes a book appears willfully in public eye with his pants down.
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Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave. I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
You are loved. If so, what else matters?
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If I could have two things in one: the peace of the grave, and the light of the sun.
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What should I be but just what I am?
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Not poppy, nor mandrake, Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world, Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep, Which thou owest yesterday.
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