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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.

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
Words
Bitterness
Hate
Despise
Right
Greed
Mean
Equality
Rancor
Men
Hatred
Renew
Forget
Pledge
Free
Bigotry
Faith
Intolerance

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A ghost in marble of a girl you knew Who would have loved you in a day or two.
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If I love you Wednesday, What is that to you? I do not love you Thursday - so much is true.
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A person who publishes a book appears willfully in public eye with his pants down.
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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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Love is not all it is not meat nor drink.
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A grave is such a quiet place.
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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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Please give me some good advice in your next letter. I promise not to follow it.
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Blessed be Death, that cuts in marble What would have sunk to dust!
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There is no shelter in you anywhere.
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Beauty is whatever gives joy.
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Oh, children, growing up to be Adventurers into sophistry, Forbear, forbear to be of those That read the rood to learn the rose.
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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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I know I am but summer to your heart, and not the full four seasons of the year.
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I love humanity but I hate people.
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If ever I said in grief or pride, I'd tired of honest things, I lied.
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Guess I'll weep awhile. Guess I won't, I mean.
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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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Euclid alone has looked on Beauty bare. Let all who prate of Beauty hold their peace, And lay them prone upon the earth and cease To ponder on themselves, the while they stare At nothing, intricately drawn nowhere.
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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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