I live alone, perhaps for no good reason, for the reason that I am an impossible creature, set apart by a temperament… — May Sarton Copy Share Image
It is dangerous it seems to me for a civilization when there is a complete abyss betewen people in general and the… — 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
My own feeling is that the only possible reason for engaging in the hard labor of writing a novel, is that one… — May Sarton Copy Share Image
... the reason why there are so few first-class poets is that many people have intense feelings or first-class minds but to… — May Sarton Copy Share Image
You can't plan for a seizure of feeling, and for this reason I put everything else aside when I'm inspired. — 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 poetry exists to break through to below the level of reason where the angels and monsters that the amenities keep in… — May Sarton Copy Share Image
In the middle of the night, things well up from the past that are not always cause for rejoicing--the unsolved, the painful… — 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
