Edna St. Vincent Millay Quotes

My search not only failed, but I convinced myself that all those who had searched like myself had failed also, and come like me to the despairing conviction that the only absolute knowledge man can possess is this—that life is without a meaning.

Regarding life, the wisest men of all ages have judged alike: it is worthless.

The meaningless absurdity of life is the only incontestable knowledge accessible to man.

I searched all areas of knowledge, and not only did I fail to find anything, but I was convinced that all those who had explored as I did had also come up with nothing. Not only had they found nothing, but they had clearly acknowledged the same thing that had brought me to despair: the only absolute knowledge attainable by man is that life is meaningless.

It is meaningless that we are born, it is meaningless that we die.

If nothing had any meaning, you would be right. But there is something that still has a meaning.

"Tell me, Tool, what dominates your thoughts?" The Imass shrugged before replying. "I think of futility, Adjunct." "Do all Imass think about futility?" "No. Few think at all." "Why is that?" The Imass leaned his head to one side and regarded her. "Because, Adjunct, it is futile."

Things are only mannequins and even the great world-historical events are only costumes beneath which they exchange glances with nothingness.

Everything in the world is gloriously meaningless.

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.

The man who regards his own life and that of his fellow-creatures as meaningless is not merely unfortunate but almost disqualified for life.

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

The thing about my music is, there really is no point.

It's really easy to slide into a depression fueled by the pointlessness of existence.

An 'unemployed' existence is a worse negation of life than death itself.

Like life itself my stories have no point and get absolutely nowhere.

Every existing thing is born without reason, prolongs itself out of weakness, and dies by chance.

Life has become the ideology of its own absence.

It even feels absurd to be writing or singing a song at all - in the context of actual death, being alive feels absurd.

Life is tragic and absurd, and none of it has any purpose at all.

Everything means nothing that is the only truth.

But the world itself has no reason, and I can say so, I who have experienced it all, from the creation to the destruction.

Meaninglessness takes hold because meaninglessness is addictive.

Not to be onto something is to be in despair.

Perhaps I'm old and tired, but I always think that the chances of finding out what really is going on are so absurdly remote that the only thing to do is to say hang the sense of it and just keep yourself occupied.