Edna St. Vincent Millay

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

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

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

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

Set the foot down with distrust on the crust of the world -- it is thin.

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

Childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies. Nobody that matters, that is.

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

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!

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

God, I can push the grass apart and lay my finger on Thy heart.

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

I know I am but summer to your heart, and not the full four seasons of the year.

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

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

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

Parrots, tortoises and redwoods live a longer life than men do; Men a longer life than dogs do; Dogs a longer life than love does.

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

And if I loved you Wednesday, Well, what is that to you? I do not love you Thursday--So much is true.

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

April comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

It is not enough that yearly, down this hill, April Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

O April, full of blood, full of breath, have pity upon us! Pale, where the winter like a stone has been lifted away, we emerge like yellow grass. Be for a moment quiet, buffet us not, have pity upon us, Till the green come back into the vein, till the giddiness pass.

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

I cannot but remember When the year grows old--October--November--How she disliked the cold!

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

. . . I know that Beauty must ail and die, And will be born again,--but ah, to see Beauty stiffened, staring up at the sky! Oh, Autumn! Autumn!--What is the Spring to me?

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind; Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave. I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

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

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

Was it for this I uttered prayers, / And sobbed and cursed and kicked the stairs, / That now, domestic as a plate, / I should retire at half-past eight?

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

The soul can split the sky in two, / And let the face of God shine through.

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

I shall die, but that is all that I shall do for Death; I am not on his pay-roll.

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

Down you mongrel, Death! / Back into your kennel!

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

A grave is such a quiet place.

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

The heart once broken is a heart no more, / And is absolved from all a heart must be.

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

Spring will not ail nor summer falter; / Nothing will know that you are gone ….

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

Soar, eat ether, see what has never been seen; depart, be lost, / But climb.

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

The fabric of my faithful love / No power shall dim or ravel / Whilst I stay here—but oh, my dear, / If I should ever travel!

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

My candle burns at both its ends; / It will not last the night; / But oh, my foes, and oh, my friends / It gives a lovely light.

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

Cut if you will, with Sleep’s dull knife, / Each day to half its length, my friend,— / The years that time takes off my life, / He’ll take from off the other end!

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

You think we build a world; I think we leave / Only these tools, wherewith to strain and grieve.

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

Life is a quest and love a quarrel ….

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

All skins are shed at length, remorse, even shame.

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

I had a little Sorrow, / Born of a little Sin.

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

Pity me that the heart is slow to learn / What the swift mind beholds at every turn.

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

I turn away reluctant from your light, / And stand irresolute, a mind undone, / A silly, dazzled thing deprived of sight / From having looked too long upon the sun.

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

Your body was a temple to Delight ….

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

“That love at length should find me out ….”

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

I make bean-stalks, I’m / A builder, like yourself.

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

… my heart is set / On living—I have heroes to beget / Before I die ….

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

Life in itself / Is nothing, / An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs.

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

Your mind is made of crumbs ….

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

… what frosty fate’s in store / For the warm blood of man,—man, out of ooze / But lately crawled, and climbing up the shore?

— Edna St. Vincent Millay