A Poem from Edna St. Vincent Millay: Grown-up Was it for this I uttered prayers, And sobbed and cursed and kicked the stairs, That now, domestic as a plate, I should retire at half-past eight?
Edna St. Vincent MillayRead
How strange a thing is death, bringing to his knees, bringing to his antlers The buck in the snow . . . Life, looking out attentive from the eyes of the doe.
Interpretation
What this quote means
This quote reflects on the paradox of life and death, highlighting the delicate balance between existence and mortality.
In this poignant quote, Edna St. Vincent Millay explores the interplay between life and death through the imagery of a buck and a doe. The death of the buck serves as a transformative moment, bringing both beauty and sorrow, as it connects the stark reality of mortality with the serene observation of life, embodied in the doe who remains vigilant and aware of her surroundings. This juxtaposition illustrates the eternal cycle of existence and the profound emotional responses it evokes.
Themes
DeathLifeMortalityBalanceExistenceNature
In practice
Example use cases
In a memorial speech, one might use this quote to reflect on the value of life while acknowledging the inevitability of death.
More from Edna St. Vincent Millay
All quotes βChildhood is not from birth to a certain age and at a certain age. The child is grown, and puts away childish things. Childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies.
Edna St. Vincent MillayRead
I went to Boston fully expecting to be arrested - arrested by a polizia created by a government that my ancestors rebelled to establish.
Edna St. Vincent MillayRead
Listen, children: Your father is dead. From his old coats I'll make you little jackets; I'll make you little trousers From his old pants. There'll be in his pockets Things he used to put there, Keys and pennies Covered with tobacco; Dan shall have the pennies To save in his bank; Anne shall have the keys To make a pretty noise with. Life must go on, Though good men die; Anne, eat your breakfast; Dan, take your medicine; Life must go on; I forget just why.
Edna St. Vincent MillayRead
I would I were alive again To kiss the fingers of the rain, To drink into my eyes the shine Of every slanting silver line, To catch the freshened, fragrant breeze From drenched and dripping apple-trees. For soon the shower will be done, And then the broad face of the sun Will laugh above the rain-soaked earth Until the world with answering mirth Shakes joyously, and each round drop Rolls twinkling, from its grass-blade top.
Edna St. Vincent MillayRead
I drank at every vine, the last was like the first. I came upon no wine so wonderful as thirst.
Edna St. Vincent MillayRead
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