Edna St. Vincent Millay Quotes

I stick my finger into existence and it smells of nothing.

One must either take an interest in the human situation or else parade before the void.

Nothingness not being nothing, nothingness being emptiness.

Nothing proves that we are more than nothing.

I'd got very successful, everyone knew who I was, but I felt very empty.

There is no there there.

Lots of different ways to live and lots of different ways to die. But in the end that doesn't make a bit of difference. All that remains is a desert.

If emptiness is empty, how can something be borne or awaken from it?

Boredom rests upon the nothingness that winds its way through existence; its giddiness, like that which comes from gazing down into an infinite abyss, is infinite.

Space has no "existence." "To exist" literally means "to stand out." You cannot understand space because it doesn't stand out. Although in itself it has no existence, it enables everything else to exist. Silence has no existence either, nor does the unmanifested.

Hell is more bearable than nothingness.

Each something is a celebration of the nothing that supports it.

So many little lives, amounting to nothing. I ask you: What is infinity multiplied by zero? It is hardly worth our discussion.

I can connect Nothing with nothing

Nothingness haunts Being.

There's no lack of void.

Our nada who art in nada, nada be thy name thy kingdom nada thy will be nada in nada as it is in nada. Give us this nada our daily nada and nada us our nada as we nada our nadas and nada us not into nada but deliver us from nada; pues nada. Hail nothing full of nothing, nothing is with thee.

Our house is like an empty cigarette packet, lying around reminding you what's not in it.

Life in itself / Is nothing, / An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs. / It is not enough that yearly, down this hill, / April / Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.

Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more; it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

Here, though, there is nothing. Nothing at all. The sky seems empty even when I am looking at the moon and stars.

Become empty to become complete, for it is the void that defines the form.

The scariest part of forever is that nothing is.

I am empty of everything. I am empty of everything but the thin, frail ghosts in my room.

My peak? Would I even have one? I hardly had had anything you could call a life. A few ripples, some rises and falls. But that's it. Almost nothing. Nothing born of nothing. I'd loved and been loved, but I had nothing to show. It was a singularly plain, featureless landscape. I felt like I was in a video game. A surrogate Pacman, crunching blindly through a labyrinth of dotted lines. The only certainty was my death.