Life goes on forever like the gnawing of a mouse. Edna St. Vincent Millay More Quotes by Edna St. Vincent Millay More Quotes From Edna St. Vincent Millay Oh, friend, forget not, when you fain would note In me a beauty that was never mine, How first you knew me in a book I wrote, How first you loved me for a written line. Edna St. Vincent Millay linesbookfirsts Ah! Up then from the ground sprang I And hailed the earth with such a cry As is not heard save from a man Who has been dead, and lives again. About the trees my arms I wound; Like one gone mad I hugged the ground; I raised my quivering arms on high; I laughed and laughed into the sky. Edna St. Vincent Millay madskymen It's not true that life is one damn thing after another; it is one damn thing over and over. Edna St. Vincent Millay existencelifefunny Pour away despair and rinse the cup. Eat happiness like bread. Edna St. Vincent Millay despairbreadhappiness 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 bookpeoplethinking I love humanity but I hate people. Edna St. Vincent Millay inspirational-lovehatefunny SHE is neither pink nor pale, And she never will be all mine; She learned her hands in a fairy-tale, And her mouth on a valentine. She has more hair than she needs; In the sun ’tis a woe to me! And her voice is a string of colored beads, Or steps leading into the sea. She loves me all that she can, And her ways to my ways resign; But she was not made for any man, And she never will be all mine. Edna St. Vincent Millay valentinemenhands Cruel of heart, lay down my song. Your reading eyes have done me wrong. Not for you was the pen bitten, And the mind wrung, and the song written. Edna St. Vincent Millay readingheartsong And reaching up my hand to try, I screamed to feel it touch the sky. Edna St. Vincent Millay reaching-upskyhands Night falls fast. Today is in the past. Edna St. Vincent Millay nightpastfall The fabric of my faithful love Edna St. Vincent Millay fabricfaithfultravel The young are so old, they are born with their fingers crossed. Edna St. Vincent Millay fingersbornyoung Beauty is whatever gives joy. Edna St. Vincent Millay beautygivinglife You wrote me a beautiful letter, I wonder if you meant it to be as beautiful as it was. I think you did; for somehow I know that your feeling for me, however slight it is, is of the nature of love... When you tell me to come, I will come, by the next train, just as I am. This is not meekness, be assured; I do not come naturally by meekness; know that it is a proud surrender to You. Edna St. Vincent Millay dreambeautifullove We think-although of course, now, we very seldom Clearly think- That the other side of War is Peace. Edna St. Vincent Millay sideswarthinking 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. Edna St. Vincent Millay rainlovemen The younger generation forms a country of its own. It has no geographical boundaries. I've talked with young Hungarians in Budapest, with young Italians in Rome, with young Frenchmen in Paris, and with young people all over. ... These young people are going to do things. They are going to change things. Edna St. Vincent Millay romepariscountry What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why, I have forgotten, and what arms have lain Under my head till morning, but the rain Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh Upon the glass and listen for reply, And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain For unremembered lads that not again Will turn to me at midnight with a cry. 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: I cannot say what loves have come and gone, I only know that summer sang in me A little while, that in me sings no more. Edna St. Vincent Millay lonelysummermorning There is no shelter in you anywhere. Edna St. Vincent Millay shelter I, being born a woman and distressed By all the needs and notions of my kind. Edna St. Vincent Millay bornkindneeds
