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I do not think there is a woman in whom the roots of passion shoot deeper than in me.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
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Edna St. Vincent Millay
Age: 58 †
Born: 1892
Born: February 22
Died: 1950
Died: October 19
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Rockland
Maine
Nancy Boyd
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Shoot
Deeper
Roots
Passion
Woman
Think
Thinking
More quotes by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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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What terrible fear causes Man to address the Void as Thou?
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Not Truth, but Faith it is that keeps the world alive.
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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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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.
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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.
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When I can make Of ten small words a rope to hang the world! I had you and I have you now no more.
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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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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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Although we sometimes did without a few of life's necessities, we rarely lacked for its luxuries.
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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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If ever I said in grief or pride, I'd tired of honest things, I lied.
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Safe upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand. Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand!
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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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Dust in an urn long since, dispersed and dead Is great Apollo and the happier he
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A person who publishes a book willfully appears before the populace with his pants down. If it is a good book nothing can hurt him. If it is a bad book nothing can help him.
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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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Beauty never slumbers All is in her name But the rose remembers The dust from which it came.
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Please don't think me negligent or rude. I am both, in effect, of course, but please don't think me either.
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Guess I'll weep awhile. Guess I won't, I mean.
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