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And reaching up my hand to try,
I screamed to feel it touch the sky.

— Edna St. Vincent Millay Renascence (1912)

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More quotes by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Many a bard's untimely death
Lends unto his verses breath;
Here's a song was never sung:
Growing old is dying young.

Yet many a man is making friends with death
Even as I speak, for lack of love alone.

Sonnet XXX from Fatal Interview (1931)

Safe upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand;
Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand!

After all, my earstwhile dear,
My no longer cherished,
Need we say it was not love,
Now that love is perished?

My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But, ah, my foes, and, oh, my friends —
It gives a lovely light.

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Attribution

Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Edna St. Vincent Millay (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.