I have written every poem, every novel, for the same purpose-to find out what I think, to know where I stand. — May Sarton Copy Share Image
There are some griefs so loud/They could bring down the sky/And there are griefs so still/None knows how deep they lie. — May Sarton Copy Share Image
I know you have much to bear with in me, and I really do sometimes in you, but I have never looked… — May Sarton Copy Share Image
Once more I realize that solitude is my element, and the reason is that extreme awareness of other people (all naturally solitary… — May Sarton Copy Share Image
If we are to understand the human condition, and if we are to accept ourselves in all the complexity, self-doubt, extravagance of… — May Sarton Copy Share Image
We are all, whether we know it or not, in search of a way to enrich, to drink during the fizz, to… — May Sarton Copy Share Image
Solitude is my element, and the reason is that extreme awareness of other people... precludes awareness of one's self so that after… — May Sarton Copy Share Image
For inside all the weakness of old age, the spirit, God knows, is as mercurial as it ever was. — May Sarton Copy Share Image
we are never done with thinking about our parents, I suppose, and come to know them better long after they are dead… — May Sarton Copy Share Image
Poetry has a way of teaching one what one needs to know ... if one is honest. — May Sarton Copy Share Image
One could go on revising a prose page forever whereas there is a point in a poem when one knows it is… — 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
