I sing Connecticut, her charms / Of rivers, orchards, blossoming ridges. / I sing her gardens, fences, farms, / Spiders and midges. — Phyllis McGinley Copy Share Image
The saints differ from us in their exuberance, the excess of our human talents. Moderation is not their secret. It is in the wildness… — Phyllis McGinley Copy Share Image
Tomorrow will come and today will pass, / But the hearts of the young are brittle as glass. — Phyllis McGinley Copy Share Image
Borrow my umbrellas, my clothes, my money, and I will likely not think of them again. But borrow my books and I will be… — Phyllis McGinley Copy Share Image
The Enemy, who wears her mother's usual face and confidential tone, has access; doubtless stares into her writing case and listens on the phone. — Phyllis McGinley Copy Share Image
God know that a mother need fortitude and courage and tolerance and flexibility and patience and firmness and nearly every other brave aspect of… — Phyllis McGinley Copy Share Image
The trouble with gardening is that it does not remain an avocation. It becomes an obsession. — Phyllis McGinley Copy Share Image
The thing to remember about fathers is, they're men. A girl has to keep it in mind: They are dragon seekers, bent on improbable… — Phyllis McGinley Copy Share Image
Sisters are always drying their hair. Locked into rooms, alone, they pose at the mirror, shoulders bare, trying this way and that their hair,… — Phyllis McGinley Copy Share Image
Of course we women gossip on occasion. But our appetite for it is not as avid as a man s. It is in the… — Phyllis McGinley Copy Share Image
Marriage was all a woman's idea and for man's acceptance of the pretty yoke, it becomes us to be grateful. — Phyllis McGinley Copy Share Image
