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What terrible fear causes Man to address the Void as Thou?
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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Writer
Rockland
Maine
Nancy Boyd
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Causes
Fear
Men
Address
Addresses
Void
Thou
Terrible
More quotes by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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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If ever I said in grief or pride, I'd tired of honest things, I lied.
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Beauty never slumbers All is in her name But the rose remembers The dust from which it came.
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Life has no friend.
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Love is not all it is not meat nor drink.
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Although we sometimes did without a few of life's necessities, we rarely lacked for its luxuries.
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Cut if you will with sleep's dull knife, the years from off your life, my friend! the years that death takes off my life, he'll take from off the other end!
Edna St. Vincent Millay
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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But she was not made for any man, and she will never be all mine.
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A grave is such a quiet place.
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I have loved badly, loved the great Too soon, withdrawn my words too late And eaten in an echoing hall Alone and from a chipped plate The words that I withdrew too late.
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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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It's not true that life is one damn thing after another it is one damn thing over and over.
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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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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
I make bean stalks, I'm A builder, like yourself.
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
Childhood Is the Kingdom Where Nobody Dies.
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Strange how few, After alls said and done, the things that are Of moment.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Beauty is whatever gives joy.
Edna St. Vincent Millay