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Phyllis McGinley Quotes
1905–1978 United States
Phyllis McGinley (March 21, 1905 – February 22, 1978) was an American author of children's books and poetry. Her poetry was in the style of light verse, specializing in humor, satiric tone and the positive aspects of suburban life.
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Men may be allowed romanticism; women, who can create life in their own bodies, dare not indulge in it.
God knows that a mother needs fortitude and courage and tolerance and flexibility and patience and firmness and nearly every other brave aspect of the human soul.
Gossip isn’t scandal and it’s not merely malicious. It’s chatter about the human race by lovers of the same.
Meek-eyed parents hasten down the ramps To greet their offspring, terrible from camps.
A mother's hardest to forgive. Life is the fruit she longs to hand you Ripe on a plate. And while you live, Relentlessly she understands you.
Prince, I warn you, under the rose, Time is the thief you cannot banish. These are my daughters, I suppose. But where in the world did the children vanish?
Compromise? Of course we compromise. But compromise, if not the spice of life, is its solidity. It is what makes nations great and marriages happy and Spruce Manor the pleasant place it is.
Always on Monday morning the Press reports God as revealed to His vicars in various guises— Benevolent, stormy, patient, or out of sorts. But only God knows which God God recognizes.
Sin has always been an ugly word, but it has been made so in a new sense over the last half-century. It has been made not only ugly but passé. People are no longer sinful, they are only immature or underprivileged or frightened or, more particularly, sick.
Ah! some love Paris, And some, Purdue. But love is an archer with a low I.Q. A bold, bad bowman, and innocent of pity. So I'm in love with New York City.
The other day I chanced to meet An angry man upon the street— A man of wrath, a man of war, A man who truculently bore Over his shoulder, like a lance, A banner labeled "Tolerance."
Housewives more than any other race deserve well-furnished minds. They have to live in them such a lot of the time. ... We who belong to that profession hold the fate of the world in our hands.
Wifehood, the house, a family; they are woman’s traditional concern and each in its way represents one of the other great three—faith, hope, charity—which St. Paul sets down as the virtues of earth. (For how can one rear a family without faith? Or build a roof without hope? Or remain a proper wife without charity?) They are life’s vital elements and no ordered world can endure without them.
Ah, snug lie those that slumber Beneath Conviction’s roof. Their floors are sturdy lumber, Their windows weatherproof. But I sleep cold forever, And cold sleep all my kind, For I was born to shiver In the draft from an open mind.
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