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The minute one utters a certainty, the opposite comes to mind.

May Sarton

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May Sarton
Age: 83 †
Born: 1912
Born: May 3
Died: 1995
Died: July 16
Diarist
Poet
Writer
May Eleanor Sarton
Certain
Mind
Utters
Certainty
Opposite
Minute
Opposites
Minutes
Comes

More quotes by May Sarton

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In the country of pain we are each alone.
May Sarton
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Read between the lines.Then meet me in the silence if you can.
May Sarton
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I write poems about relationships, love relationships, and I'm not able to do that all the time. I could go two years without writing poems, and then write a dozen. Having a novel to work on, with the intricate puzzle of character and plot to work out, is satisfying for the time there is no poetry.
May Sarton
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Routine is not a prison, but the way into freedom from time.
May Sarton
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I can understand people simply fleeing the mountainous effort Christmas has become... but there are always a few saving graces and finally they make up for all the bother and distress.
May Sarton
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About loving, I have little to learn from the young.
May Sarton
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It is sometimes the most fragile things that have the power to endure and become sources of strength.
May Sarton
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It is clear that we do not exactly choose our poems our poems choose us.
May Sarton
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We are able to laugh when we achieve detachment, if only for a moment.
May Sarton
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They are commiting murder who merely live.
May Sarton
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Now I become myself. It’s taken time, many years and places.
May Sarton
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When addressed, a Gentleman Cat does not move a muscle. He looks as if he hasn't heard.
May Sarton
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For inside all the weakness of old age, the spirit, God knows, is as mercurial as it ever was.
May Sarton
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No partner in a love relationship... should feel that he has to give up an essential part of himself to make it viable.
May Sarton
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What we have not has made us what we are. / ... / What we are not drives us to consummation.
May Sarton
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Joy, happiness ... we do not question. They are beyond question, maybe. A matter of being. But pain forces us to think, and to make connections ... to discover what has been happening to cause it. And, curiously enough, pain draws us to other human beings in a significant way, whereas joy or happiness to some extent, isolates.
May Sarton
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A house that does not have one warm, comfy chair in it is soulless.
May Sarton
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Love is our human miracle.
May Sarton
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There the door is always open into the “holy” — growth, birth, death.
May Sarton
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O cruel cloudless space, And pale bare ground where the poor infant lies! Why do we feel restored As in a sacramental place? Here Mystery is artifice, And here a vision of such peace is stored, Healing flows from it through our eyes.
May Sarton