Edna St. Vincent Millay Quotes

It's little I know what's in my heart,What's in my mind it's little I know,But there's that in me must up and start,And it's little I care where my feet go.

Although we sometimes did without a few of life's necessities, we rarely lacked for its luxuries.

I know, but I do not approve. And I am not resigned.

I am not at all in favor of hard work for its own sake; many people who work very hard indeed produce terrible things, and should most certainly not be encouraged.

Night falls fast. Today is in the past. Blown from the dark hill hither to my door Three flakes, then four Arrive, then many more.

And he whose soul is flat -- the sky Will cave in on him by and by.

I find that I never lose Bach. I don't know why I have always loved him so. Except that he is so pure, so relentless and incorruptible, like a principle of geometry.

it may be said of me by Harper & Brothers, that although I reject their proposals, I welcome their advances.

She is happy where she lies With the dust upon her eyes.

After all, my erstwhile dear, My no longer cherished, Need we say it was not love, Just because it perished?

Music, my rampart and my only one.

Pity me that the heart is slow to learnWhat the swift mind beholds at every turn.

And must I then, indeed, Pain, live with youall through my life?-sharing my fire, my bed, Sharing-oh, worst of all things!-the same head?-And, when I feed myself, feeding you too?

Oh, friend, forget not, when you fain would noteIn 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....

I shall die, but that is all that I shall do for Death.

I would I were alive again to kiss the fingers of the rain.

And so beneath the weight lay IAnd suffered death, but could not die.

Am I kin to Sorrow, That so oftFalls the knocker of my door—Neither loud nor soft, But as long accustomed—Under Sorrow’s hand?

Into each dance must be packed the panic and ecstasy of her last moment of life, for underneath was death.

Searching my heart for its true sorrow, This is the thing I find to be: That I am weary of words and people, Sick of the city, wanting the sea.

And all the loveliest things there be Come simply so it seems to me.

Strange how few After all's said and done the things that are Of moment.

My heart is warm with the friends I make And better friends I'll not be knowing Yet there isn't a train I wouldn't take No matter where it's going.

With him for a sire and her for a dam What should I be but just what I am?

It is not true that life is one damn thing after another- it's one damn thing over and over.

My candle burns at both ends It will not last the night But ah my foes and oh my friends - It gives a lovely light.

Where you used to be there is a hole in the world which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime and falling into at night. I miss you like hell.

'Tis not love's going hurts my days but that it went in little ways.

After all my erstwhile dear my no longer cherished need we say it was no love just because it perished?

And if I loved you Wednesday well what is that to you? I do not love you Thursday - so much is true.

April Comes like an idiot babbling and strewing flowers.

A person who publishes a book appears willfully in public with his pants down.

Please give me some good advice in your next letter. I promise not to follow it.

The soul can split the sky in two and let the face of God shine through.