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I will come back to you, I swear I will And you will know me still. I shall be only a little taller Than when I went.

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
Shall
Went
Stills
Still
Littles
Back
Taller
Little
Come
Swear

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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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pity me that the heart is slow to learn what the swift mind beholds at every turn.
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This have I known always: Love is no more than the wide blossom which the wind assails, than the great tide that treads the shifting shore, strewing fresh wreckage gathered in the gales Pity me that the heart is slow to learn, that the swift mind beholds at every turn.
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Night falls fast. Today is in the past.
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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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Dust in an urn long since, dispersed and dead Is great Apollo and the happier he
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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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Progress-progress is the dirtiest word in the language-who ever told us- And made us believe it-that to take a step forward was necessarily, was always A good idea?
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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.
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Life has no friend.
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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
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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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Not for the flag Of any land because myself was born there Will I give up my life. But I will love that land where man is free, And that will I defend.
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Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink And rise and sink and rise and sink again Love can not fill the thickened lung with breath, Nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone Yet many a man is making friends with death Even as I speak, for lack of love alone.
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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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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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What terrible fear causes Man to address the Void as Thou?
Edna St. Vincent Millay
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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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My candle burns at both ends it will not last the night but ah, my foes, and oh, my friends - it gives a lovely light!
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There is no shelter in you anywhere.
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