Edna St. Vincent Millay Short Quotes

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And life goes on forever like the gnawing of a mouse...

Edna St. Vincent Millay
Not Truth, but Faith, it is
That keeps the world alive.

Edna St. Vincent Millay
April
Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.

Edna St. Vincent Millay
Catch from the board of beauty/ Such careless crumbs as fall.

Edna St. Vincent Millay
And, through and over everything,
A sense of glad awakening.

Edna St. Vincent Millay
Pour away despair and rinse the cup. Eat happiness like bread.

Edna St. Vincent Millay
Birds that cannot even sing —
Dare to come again in spring!

Edna St. Vincent Millay
The young are so old, they are born with their fingers crossed.

Edna St. Vincent Millay
But she was not made for any man, and she will never be all mine.

Edna St. Vincent Millay
God, I can push the grass apart,
And lay my finger on thy heart.

Edna St. Vincent Millay
Blessed be Death, that cuts in marble What would have sunk to dust!

Edna St. Vincent Millay
To what purpose, April, do you return again?
Beauty is not enough.

Edna St. Vincent Millay
If ever I said, in grief or pride,
I tired of honest things, I lied.

Edna St. Vincent Millay
That which has quelled me, lives with me, Accomplice in catastrophe.

Edna St. Vincent Millay
She learned her hands in a fairy-tale, And her mouth on a valentine.

Edna St. Vincent Millay
And all the loveliest things there be come simply, so it seems to me.

Edna St. Vincent Millay
'Tis not love's going hurts my days,
But that it went in little ways.

Edna St. Vincent Millay
All I could see from where I stood Was three long mountains and a wood.

Edna St. Vincent Millay
Father, I beg of Thee a little task To dignify my days, 'tis all I ask.

Edna St. Vincent Millay
Women are
Superior to men in every way,
But chiefly in the intellect.

Edna St. Vincent Millay
The heart grows weary after a little Of what it loved for a little while.

Edna St. Vincent Millay
Set the foot down with distrust on the crust of the world — it is thin.

Edna St. Vincent Millay
Life in itself
Is nothing,
An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs.

Edna St. Vincent Millay
And her voice is a string of colored beads, Or steps leading into the sea.

Edna St. Vincent Millay
Soar, eat ether, see what has never been seen; depart, be lost, but climb.

Edna St. Vincent Millay