Sara Teasdale Quotes
''“Stephen kissed me in the spring,Sara Teasdale, The Collected Poems
Robin in the fall,
But Colin only looked at me
And never kissed at all.
Stephen’s kiss was lost in jest,
Robin’s lost in play,
But the kiss in Colin’s eyes
Haunts me night and day.” ''
''“It is strange how often a heart must be brokenSara Teasdale, The Collected Poems
Before the years can make it wise.” ''
''“You will recognize your own pathSara Teasdale
when you come upon it
because you will suddenly have all the energy
and imagination you will ever need.” ''
''“I am not yours, not lost in you,Sara Teasdale, Love Songs
Not lost, although I long to be
Lost as a candle lit at noon,
Lost as a snowflake in the sea.
You love me, and I find you still
A spirit beautiful and bright,
Yet I am I, who long to be
Lost as a light is lost in light.” ''
''“I make the most of all that comes and the least of all that goes.” ''Sara Teasdale
''“When I am dead, and over me bright AprilSara Teasdale
Shakes out her rain drenched hair,
Tho you should lean above me broken hearted,
I shall not care.
For I shall have peace.
As leafey trees are peaceful
When rain bends down the bough.
And I shall be more silent and cold hearted
Than you are now”''
''“I shall have peace, as leafy trees are peacefulSara Teasdale, Rivers to the Sea
When rain bends down the bough;
And I shall be more silent and cold-hearted
Than you are now.” ''
''“I saw a star slide down the skySara Teasdale
Blinding the north as it went by
Too buring and too quick to hold
Too lovely to be bought or sold
Good only to make wishes on
And then forever to be gone” ''
''“FaultsSara Teasdale, Love Songs
They came to tell your faults to me, They named them over one by one; I laughed aloud when they were done, I knew them all so well before,-- Oh, they were blind, too blind to see Your faults had made me love you more.” ''
''“No one worth possessing can quite be possessed” ''Sara Teasdale
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I am alone, in spite of love,
In spite of all I take and give—
In spite of all your tenderness,
Sometimes I am not glad to live.
I am alone, as though I stood
On the highest peak of the tired gray world,
About me only swirling snow,
Above me, endless space unfurled;
With earth hidden and heaven hidden,
And only my own spirit's pride
To keep me from the peace of those
Who are not lonely, having died.
This is the quiet hour; the theaters
Have gathered in their crowds, and steadily
The million lights blaze on for few to see,
Robbing the sky of stars that should be hers.
A woman waits with bag and shabby furs,
A somber man drifts by, and only we
Pass up the street unwearied, warm and free,
For over us the olden magic stirs.