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I make bean stalks, I'm A builder, like yourself.
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
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Rockland
Maine
Nancy Boyd
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Garden
Work
Stalks
Make
Bean
Like
Stalking
Builder
Beans
Gardening
Essentials
More quotes by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
I love humanity but I hate people.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Stranger, pause and look From the dust of ages Lift this little book, Turn the tattered pages, Read me, do not let me die! Search the fading letters finding Steadfast in the broken binding All that once was I!
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Please give me some good advice in your next letter. I promise not to follow it.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
To what purpose, April, do you return again? Beauty is not enough.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Music my rampart, and my only one.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
She learned her hands in a fairy-tale, And her mouth on a valentine.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
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
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!
Edna St. Vincent Millay
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.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Beauty is whatever gives joy.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Night falls fast. Today is in the past.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
A Poem from Edna St. Vincent Millay: Grown-up Was it for this I uttered prayers, And sobbed and cursed and kicked the stairs, That now, domestic as a plate, I should retire at half-past eight?
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Oh, children, growing up to be Adventurers into sophistry, Forbear, forbear to be of those That read the rood to learn the rose.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
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
... but the rain Is full of ghosts tonight
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Time can make soft that iron wood.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
But she was not made for any man, and she will never be all mine.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
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.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
I am not a tentative person. Whatever I do, I give up my whole self to it.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
