Elinor Wylie

“I was, being human, born alone; I am, being woman, hard beset; I live by squeezing from a stone The little nourishment I get.”

“And I am bored to a point of tears with everlastings, and stickiness, and sameness, and everything.”

“You are the bird, and I the shabby snare That waits for you in vain.”

“Avoid the reeking herd, Shun the polluted flock, Live like that stoic bird, The eagle of the rock.”

“Let us walk in the white snow in a soundless space; With footsteps quiet and slow, at a tranquil pace, Under veils of white lace.”

“Now let no charitable hope Confuse my mind with images Of eagle and of antelope: I am in nature none of these.”

“Down to the Puritan marrow of my bones There's something in this richness that I hate. I love the look, austere, immaculate, Of landscapes drawn in pearly monotones.”

“I love my life, but not too well to give it.”

“Life, mislabeled poisonous, swims in my veins and saturates my flesh.”

“A pretty woman's worth some pains to see.”

“A Puritan may go to his brown-bread crust with as gross an appetite as a sinner to his dainties.”

“He who has never failed somewhere, that man cannot be great.”

“I'd rather have a kitten than a car.”

“In coldest crucibles of pain Her shrinking spirit melts again.”