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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

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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
Really
Dead
Way
Knew
Think
Used
Thinking
Littles
People
Little
Wells
Book
Faint
Well
Perfume

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I love humanity but I hate people.
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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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it may be said of me by Harper & Brothers, that although I reject their proposals, I welcome their advances.
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A person who publishes a book appears willfully in public eye with his pants down.
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Curse thee, Life, I will live with thee no more! Thou hast mocked me, starved me, beat my body sore! And all for a pledge that was not pledged by me, I have kissed thy crust and eaten sparingly That I might eat again, and met thy sneers With deprecations, and thy blows with tears.
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And all the loveliest things there be come simply, so it seems to me.
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Cut if you will with sleep's dull knife, the years from off your life, my friend! the years that death takes off my life, he'll take from off the other end!
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Should at that moment the full moon Step forth upon the hill, And memories hard to bear at noon, By moonlight harder still, Form in the shadows of the trees, - Things that you could not spare And live, or so you thought, yet these All gone, and you still there, A man no longer what he was, Not yet the thing he planned.
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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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What should I be but just what I am?
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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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I do not think there is a woman in whom the roots of passion shoot deeper than in me.
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Beauty in all things-no, we cannot hope for that but some place set apart for it.
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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.
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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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I am not at all in favor of hard work for its own sake many people who work very hard indeed produce terrible things, and should most certainly not be encouraged.
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Music my rampart, and my only one.
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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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It's little I know what's in my heart,What's in my mind it's little I know,But there's that in me must up and start,And it's little I care where my feet go.
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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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