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All my life, Following Care along the dusty road, Have I looked back on loveliness and sighed.
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
Along
Dusty
Care
Sighed
Back
Loveliness
Life
Generosity
Following
Road
Looked
Compassion
More quotes by 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
She learned her hands in a fairy-tale, And her mouth on a valentine.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
No one but Night, with tears on her dark face, watches beside me in this windy place.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
April comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
And all the loveliest things there be come simply, so it seems to me.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
If ever I said in grief or pride, I'd tired of honest things, I lied.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Beautiful as a dandelion-blossom, golden in the green grass, This life can be. Common as a dandelion-blossom, beautiful in the clean grass, not beautiful Because common, beautiful because beautiful, Noble because common, because free.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
I know, but I do not approve. And I am not resigned.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
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
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Guess I'll weep awhile. Guess I won't, I mean.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Please don't think me negligent or rude. I am both, in effect, of course, but please don't think me either.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
I am not a tentative person. Whatever I do, I give up my whole self to it.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
What should I be but just what I am?
Edna St. Vincent Millay
pity me that the heart is slow to learn what the swift mind beholds at every turn.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
I make bean stalks, I'm A builder, like yourself.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
To what purpose, April, do you return again? Beauty is not enough.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
This book, when I am dead, will be A little faint perfume of me. People who knew me well will say, She really used to think that way.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Should at that moment the full moon Step forth upon the hill, And memories hard to bear at noon, By moonlight harder still, Form in the shadows of the trees, - Things that you could not spare And live, or so you thought, yet these All gone, and you still there, A man no longer what he was, Not yet the thing he planned.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink And rise and sink and rise and sink again Love can not fill the thickened lung with breath, Nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone Yet many a man is making friends with death Even as I speak, for lack of love alone.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
But she was not made for any man, and she will never be all mine.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
