May we agree that private life is irrelevant? Multiple, mixed, ambiguous at best – out of it we try to fashion the crystal clear, the singular, the absolute, and that is what is relevant; that is what matters.
About May Sarton
May Sarton was the pen name of Eleanore Marie Sarton (May 3, 1912 – July 16, 1995), a Belgian-American novelist, poet, and memoirist. Although her best work is strongly personalised with erotic female imagery, she resisted the label of ‘lesbian writer’, preferring to convey the universality of human love.
More quotes from May Sarton
The more articulate one is, the more dangerous words become.
American poet, novelist, and memoirist (1912-1995)
Women are at last becoming persons first and wives second, and that is as it should be.
American poet, novelist, and memoirist (1912-1995)
No partner in a love relationship… should feel that he has to give up an essential part of himself to make it viable.
American poet, novelist, and memoirist (1912-1995)
A house that does not have one warm, comfy chair in it is soulless.
American poet, novelist, and memoirist (1912-1995)
It is the privilege of those who fear love to murder those who do not fear it!
American poet, novelist, and memoirist (1912-1995)
One must think like a hero to behave like a merely decent human being.
American poet, novelist, and memoirist (1912-1995)
We have to dare to be ourselves, however frightening or strange that self may prove to be.
American poet, novelist, and memoirist (1912-1995)
Help us to be ever faithful gardeners of the spirit, who know that without darkness nothing comes to birth, and without light nothing flowers.
American poet, novelist, and memoirist (1912-1995)
True feeling justifies whatever it may cost.
American poet, novelist, and memoirist (1912-1995)
Each day, and the living of it, has to be a conscious creation in which discipline and order are relieved with some play and pure foolishness.
American poet, novelist, and memoirist (1912-1995)
In a total work, the failures have their not unimportant place.
American poet, novelist, and memoirist (1912-1995)
The minute one utters a certainty, the opposite comes to mind.
American poet, novelist, and memoirist (1912-1995)
Loneliness is the poverty of self; solitude is the richness of self.
American poet, novelist, and memoirist (1912-1995)
May we agree that private life is irrelevant? Multiple, mixed, ambiguous at best – out of it we try to fashion the crystal clear, the singular, the absolute, and that is what is relevant; that is what matters.
American poet, novelist, and memoirist (1912-1995)
In the country of pain we are each alone.
American poet, novelist, and memoirist (1912-1995)
There is only one real deprivation… and that is not to be able to give one’s gifts to those one loves most.
American poet, novelist, and memoirist (1912-1995)
Self-respect is nothing to hide behind. When you need it most it isn’t there.
American poet, novelist, and memoirist (1912-1995)
Everything that slows us down and forces patience, everything that sets us back into the slow circles of nature, is a help. Gardening is an instrument of grace.
American poet, novelist, and memoirist (1912-1995)
The garden is growth and change and that means loss as well as constant new treasures to make up for a few disasters.
American poet, novelist, and memoirist (1912-1995)
Most people have to talk so they won’t hear.
American poet, novelist, and memoirist (1912-1995)
Don’t forget that compared to a grownup person every baby is a genius. Think of the capacity to learn! The freshness, the temperament, the will of a baby a few months old!
American poet, novelist, and memoirist (1912-1995)