They tire of quiet, that have known the storm
Little Words When you are gone, there is nor bloom nor leaf, Nor singing sea at night, nor silver birds; And I can only stare, and shape my grief In little words. I cannot conjure loveliness, to drown The bitter woe that racks my cords apart. The weary pen that sets my sorrow down Feeds at my heart. There is no mercy in the shifting year, No beauty wraps me tenderly about. I turn to little words- so you, my dear, Can spell them out.
She was pleased to have him come and never sorry to see him go.
Mrs. Ewing was a short woman who accepted the obligation borne by so many short women to make up in vivacity what they lack in number of inches from the ground.
There must be courage; there must be no awe. There must be criticism, for humor, to my mind, is encapsulated in criticism. There must be a disciplined eye and a wild mind...There must be a magnificent disregard of your reader, for if he cannot follow you, there is nothing you can do about it.
Guns aren't lawful; nooses give; gas smells awful. So you might as well live.
All I need is room enough to lay a hat and a few friends.
If I had a shiny gun I could have a world of fun Speeding bullets through the brains Of the folks that cause me pains :)
At birth the Devil touched my tongue.
Oh, seek, my love, your newer way; I'll not be left in sorrow. So long as I have yesterday, Go take your damned tomorrow!
ridicule may be a shield, but it is not a weapon.
The ladies men admire, I've heard, Would shudder at a wicked word. Their candle gives a single light, They'd rather stay at home at night. They do not keep awake 'till three, Nor read erotic poetry. They never sanction the impure, Nor recognize an overture. They shrink from powders and from paints... So far I've had no complaints.
A list of authors who have made themselves most beloved and therefore, most comfortable financially, shows that it is our national joy to mistake for the first-rate, the fecund rate.
As I was saying to the landlord only this morning: 'You can't have everything'.
Art is a form of catharsis emotional release, purging, cleansing, purifying.
It costs me never a stab nor squirm / To tread by chance upon a worm. / Aha, my little dear, / I say, Your clan will pay me back one day.
[On an actor who'd broken her leg in London:] Oh, how terrible. She must have done it sliding down a barrister.
Her mind lives tidily, apart from cold and noise and pain. And bolts the door against her heart, out wailing in the rain.
Sorrow is tranquility remembered in emotion.
Should they whisper false of you, Never trouble to deny; Should the words they say be true, Weep and storm and say they lie.
The sweeter the apple, the blacker the core. Scratch a lover and find a foe!
Pictures pass me in long review,-- Marching columns of dead events. I was tender, and, often, true; Ever a prey to coincidence. Always knew I the consequence; Always saw what the end would be. We're as Nature has made us -- hence I loved them until they loved me.
Once, when I was young and true. Someone left me sad - Broke my brittle heart in two; And that is very bad. Love is for unlucky folk, Love is but a curse. Once there was a heart I broke; And that, I think, is worse.
Excuse me, everybody, I have to go to the bathroom. I really have to telephone, but I'm too embarrassed to say so.
Hollywood money isn't money. It's congealed snow, melts in your hand, and there you are.
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