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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
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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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Poet
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Rockland
Maine
Nancy Boyd
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Welcome
Although
Proposals
Brother
Harper
May
Proposal
Advances
Reject
Rejects
Brothers
More quotes by Edna St. Vincent Millay
There is no shelter in you anywhere.
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I know, but I do not approve. And I am not resigned.
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Lord I do fear / Thou'st made the world too beautiful this year.
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Strange how few, After alls said and done, the things that are Of moment.
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No one but Night, with tears on her dark face, watches beside me in this windy place.
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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!
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Love is not all it is not meat nor drink.
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I had a little sorrow, Born of a little sin.
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You see, I am a poet, and not quite right in the head, darling. It’s only that.
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What terrible fear causes Man to address the Void as Thou?
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After the feet of beauty fly my own.
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Please give me some good advice in your next letter. I promise not to follow it.
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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.
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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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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.
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... but the rain Is full of ghosts tonight
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Evil alone has oil for every wheel.
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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
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I shall die, but that is all that I shall do for Death I am not on his pay-roll.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Time can make soft that iron wood.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
