Elinor Wylie

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

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

“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.”

“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.”

“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'd rather have a kitten than a car.”

“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.”

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

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