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Pour away despair and rinse the cup. Eat happiness like bread.
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
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Rockland
Maine
Nancy Boyd
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Despair
Happiness
Away
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Rinse
Pour
Cups
Bread
More quotes by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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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I am all the time talking about you, and bragging, to one person or another. I am like the Ancient Mariner, who had a tale in his heart he must unfold to all. I am always buttonholing somebody and saying, Someday you must meet my mother.
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I screamed, and--lo!--Infinity Came down and settled over me
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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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She learned her hands in a fairy-tale, And her mouth on a valentine.
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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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To what purpose, April, do you return again? Beauty is not enough.
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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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Life has no friend.
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Martyred many times must be Who would keep his country free.
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You see, I am a poet, and not quite right in the head, darling. It’s only that.
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What should I be but just what I am?
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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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Blessed be Death, that cuts in marble What would have sunk to dust!
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Life must go on I forget just why.
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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.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
After the feet of beauty fly my own.
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But far, oh, far as passionate eye can reach, And long, ah, long as rapturous eye can cling, The world is mine: blue hill, still silver lake, Broad field, bright flower, and the long white road A gateless garden, and an open path: My feet to follow, and my heart to hold.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
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
