This book, when I am dead, will be A little faint perfume of me. People who knew me well will say, She… — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
To be grown up is to sit at the table with people who have died, who neither listen nor speak ... — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
For my omniscience paid I toll In infinite remorse of soul. All sin was of my sinning, all Atoning mine, and mine… — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
Sorrow like a ceaseless rain Beats upon my heart. People twist and scream in pain-- Dawn will find them still again; This… — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
Marriage...one of the most civilized institutions in the world...But...swimming is one of the most wonderful of sports, and yet there are always… — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
The younger generation forms a country of its own. It has no geographical boundaries. I've talked with young Hungarians in Budapest, with… — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
I am not at all in favor of hard work for its own sake; many people who work very hard indeed produce… — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
The only people I really hate are servants. They're not really human beings at all. — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
There are a hundred places where I fear To go, --so with his memory they brim! And entering with relief some quiet place Where… — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
The first rose on my rose-tree Budded, bloomed, and shattered, During sad days when to me Nothing mattered. Grief or grief has drained me… — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
A Poem from Edna St. Vincent Millay: Grown-up Was it for this I uttered prayers, And sobbed and cursed and kicked the stairs, That… — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
And reaching up my hand to try, I screamed to feel it touch the sky. — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
“And you as well must die, beloved dust, And all your beauty stand you in no stead; This flawless, vital hand, this perfect head,… — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
Oh, children, growing up to be Adventurers into sophistry, Forbear, forbear to be of those That read the rood to learn the rose. — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
Some of us have been thinking and talking too long without doing anything. Poems are perfect; picketing, sometimes, is better. — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
“But, sure, the sky is big, I said; Miles and miles above my head; So here upon my back I'll lie And look my… — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
pity me that the heart is slow to learn what the swift mind beholds at every turn. — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
