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If I love you Wednesday, What is that to you? I do not love you Thursday - so much is true.
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
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Rockland
Maine
Nancy Boyd
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Thursday
Wednesday
True
Much
Love
More quotes by Edna St. Vincent Millay
Safe upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand. Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand!
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Please give me some good advice in your next letter. I promise not to follow it.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Not Truth, but Faith it is that keeps the world alive.
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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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I know, but I do not approve. And I am not resigned.
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I make bean stalks, I'm A builder, like yourself.
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Upon this gifted age, in its dark hour falls from the sky a meteoric shower of facts They lie unquestioned, uncombined. Wisdom enough to leech us of our ill is daily spun, But there exists no loom to weave it into fabric.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave. I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Strange how few, After alls said and done, the things that are Of moment.
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it may be said of me by Harper & Brothers, that although I reject their proposals, I welcome their advances.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
What terrible fear causes Man to address the Void as Thou?
Edna St. Vincent Millay
What should I be but just what I am?
Edna St. Vincent Millay
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
Heap not on this mound roses that she loved so well why bewilder her with roses that she cannot see or smell.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Sorrow like a ceaseless rain Beats upon my heart. People twist and scream in pain-- Dawn will find them still again This has neither wax nor wane, Neither stop nor start.
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
Her lawn looks like a meadow, And if she mows the place She leaves the clover standing And the Queen Anne's Lace.
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
She learned her hands in a fairy-tale, And her mouth on a valentine.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
The younger generation forms a country of its own. It has no geographical boundaries. I've talked with young Hungarians in Budapest, with young Italians in Rome, with young Frenchmen in Paris, and with young people all over. ... These young people are going to do things. They are going to change things.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
