Edna St. Vincent Millay Quotes

The only thing I was trying to portray was serenity. Also, innocence, vulnerability and elegance.

If you get simple beauty and naught else, you get about the best thing God invents.

In everything, love simplicity.

Beautiful things spoil nothing.

We are learning, too, that the love of beauty is one of Nature's greatest healers.

Bless the doves—we need more of them.

I will say I am itching for some babyface-ness in my life.

The world was beautiful when looked at in this way-without any seeking, so simple, so childlike.

Let peace and beauty reign.

He was in love with life as an ant on a summer blade of grass.

How beautiful the world was when one looked at it, without searching... just looked, simply and innocently.

Beautiful was this world, looking at it thus, without searching, thus simply, thus childlike.

Is not thy home among the flowers?

Flowers of all hue, and without thorn the rose.

Everything is so infinitely simple, so infinitely beautiful.

Was it pretty? Your country. . .your land?" "It was beautiful," the gunslinger said. "There were fields and forests and rivers and mists in the morning. But that's only pretty. My mother used to say that the only real beauty is order and love and light.

Children are happy because they don't yet have a file in their minds called "All the Things That Could Go Wrong." They don't have a mind-set that puts "Things to Fear" before "Things to Love." Unless we can be like little children, we can't enter into the kingdom of heaven; unless we can be like little children, we can't be happy. Children are happy because they don't have all the facts yet.

Beauty is a luster which love bestows to guile the eye. Therefore it may be said that only when the brain is without love will the eye look and see no beauty.

Life's most soothing things are a child's goodnight and sweet music.

I'll say she looks as clear as morning roses newly washed with dew.

At times it seemed unfair that I should be paid for my work; for driving out in the early morning with the fields glittering under the first pale sunshine and the wisps of mist still hanging on the high tops.

The world was so beautiful when regarded like this, without searching, so simply, in such a childlike way. Moons and stas were beautiful, beautiful were bank and stream, forest and rocks, goat and gold-bug, flower and butterfly. So lovely, so delightful to go through the world this way, so like a child, awake, open to what is near, without distrust.

If a rainbow makes a sound, or a flower as it grows, that was the sound of her laughter.

If numbers aren't beautiful, I don't know what is.