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Cruel of heart, lay down my song. Your reading eyes have done me wrong. Not for you was the pen bitten, And the mind wrung, and the song written.
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
Eye
Bitten
Song
Pens
Done
Cruel
Heart
Lays
Mind
Written
Eyes
Reading
Wrong
Wrung
More quotes by Edna St. Vincent Millay
I am not afraid of lawyers as I used to be. They are lambs in wolves' clothing.
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I know, but I do not approve. And I am not resigned.
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Life has no friend.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Beauty in all things-no, we cannot hope for that but some place set apart for it.
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There is no shelter in you anywhere.
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Pour away despair and rinse the cup. Eat happiness like bread.
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Strange how few, After alls said and done, the things that are Of moment.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
That is my being, the madness of an unaccustomed mood.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Upon this gifted age, in its dark hour falls 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.
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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.
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The heart grows weary after a little Of what it loved for a little while.
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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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I know I am but summer to your heart, and not the full four seasons of the year.
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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
Sorrow like a ceaseless rain Beats upon my heart. People twist and scream in pain-- Dawn will find them still again This has neither wax nor wane, Neither stop nor start.
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
Beauty is whatever gives joy.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Life must go on I forget just why.
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To what purpose, April, do you return again? Beauty is not enough.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
I make bean stalks, I'm A builder, like yourself.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
