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Beauty never slumbers All is in her name But the rose remembers The dust from which it came.
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
Beauty
Names
Slumbers
Beautiful
Slumber
Remember
Remembers
Never
Dust
Rose
Name
Came
More quotes by Edna St. Vincent Millay
Not poppy, nor mandrake, Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world, Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep, Which thou owest yesterday.
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Childhood Is the Kingdom Where Nobody Dies.
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I love humanity but I hate people.
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I shall die, but that is all that I shall do for Death I am not on his pay-roll.
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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 I could have two things in one: the peace of the grave, and the light of the sun.
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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!
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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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Pour away despair and rinse the cup. Eat happiness like bread.
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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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Euclid alone Has looked on Beauty bare. Fortunate they Who, though once only and then but far away, Have heard her massive sandal set on stone.
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Time can make soft that iron wood.
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What should I be but just what I am?
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One things there's no getting by, I've been a wicked girl, Says I... But, if I can't be sorry I might as well be glad !
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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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Love is not all it is not meat nor drink.
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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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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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We think-although of course, now, we very seldom Clearly think- That the other side of War is Peace.
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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.
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