Real joy is becoming exceedingly rare among artists of any kind. And I have an idea that those who can and do… — May Sarton Copy Share Image
Does anything in nature despair except man? An animal with a foot caught in a trap does not seem to despair. It… — May Sarton Copy Share Image
If one is the kind of creature I am and wants to do the kind of writing I want to do, an… — May Sarton Copy Share Image
The fact is that I have lived with the belief that power, any kind of power, was the one thing forbidden to… — May Sarton Copy Share Image
When we speak of being vulnerable, it suggests being especially vulnerable to pain. People for whom personal dignity and self-sufficiency are everything,… — May Sarton Copy Share Image
“There is only one real deprivation, I decided this morning, and that is not to be able to give one's gifts to… — May Sarton Copy Share Image
The woman who needs to create works of art is born with a kind of psychic tension in her which drives her… — May Sarton Copy Share Image
The gift turned inward, unable to be given, becomes a heavy burden, even sometimes a kind of poison. It is as though… — May Sarton Copy Share Image
“I felt pain like an assault, The old pain again When the world thrusts itself inside, When we have to take in the outside,… — May Sarton Copy Share Image
This suspension of one's own reality, this being entirely alone in a strange city (at times I wondered if I had lost the power… — May Sarton Copy Share Image
Real joy is becoming exceedingly rare among artists of any kind. And I have an idea that those who can and do communicate it… — May Sarton Copy Share Image
For to be desperate is to discover strength. / We die of comfort and by conflict live. — May Sarton Copy Share Image
“I see you with that shell Held to your sensitive abstracted ear, Hunting the ocean’s rumor till you hear it well, Until you can… — May Sarton Copy Share Image
There is a wilder solitude in winter When every sense is pricked alive and keen. — May Sarton Copy Share Image
I long for the bulbs to arrive, for the early autumn chores are melancholy, but the planting of bulbs is the work of hope… — May Sarton Copy Share Image
Why is it that people who cannot show feeling presume that that is a strength and not a weakness? — May Sarton Copy Share Image
Innocence is not pure so much as pleased, Always expectant, bright-eyed, self-enclosed — May Sarton Copy Share Image
