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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
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Rockland
Maine
Nancy Boyd
Edna St. Vincent Millay
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Beauty
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Slumbers
Beautiful
Slumber
Remember
Remembers
Never
Dust
Rose
Name
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Childhood Is the Kingdom Where Nobody Dies.
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When I can make Of ten small words a rope to hang the world! I had you and I have you now no more.
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And all the loveliest things there be come simply, so it seems to me.
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She learned her hands in a fairy-tale, And her mouth on a valentine.
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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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When you publish something, it is very much as if you pulled your pants down in public. If what you have written is good, nobody can hurt you if what you have written is bad, nobody can help you.
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They say when you are missing someone that they are probably feeling the same, but I don't think it's possible for you to miss me as much as I'm missing you right now
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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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April comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.
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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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Martyred many times must be Who would keep his country free.
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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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Blessed be Death, that cuts in marble What would have sunk to dust!
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What should I be but just what I am?
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I am not afraid of lawyers as I used to be. They are lambs in wolves' clothing.
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Love is not all it is not meat nor drink.
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It's little I know what's in my heart,What's in my mind it's little I know,But there's that in me must up and start,And it's little I care where my feet go.
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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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When you are corn and roses and at rest I shall endure, a dense and sanguine ghost To haunt the scene where I was happiest To bend above the thing I loved the most
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A grave is such a quiet place.
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