Best 13 quotes of Elinor Wylie on MyQuotes

Elinor Wylie

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    Elinor Wylie

    Down to the Puritan marrow of my bones There's something in this richness that I hate. I love the look, austere, immaculate, Of landscapes drawn in pearly monotones.

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    Elinor Wylie

    I am better able to imagine hell than heaven; it is my inheritance, I suppose.

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    Elinor Wylie

    If you would keep your soul From spotted sight or sound, Live like the velvet mole; Go burrow underground.

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    Elinor Wylie

    I have never cared very deeply about the actual taste of my work. Let its essential odor satisfy my mind and senses, and I am content. I rarely judge by the grosser test of actual gustation ... in cooking, to create a masterpiece for the nose alone - that is exquisite, that is Art!

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    Elinor Wylie

    In masks outrageous and austere The years go by in single file; But none has merited my fear, And none has quite escaped my smile.

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    Elinor Wylie

    I shall lie folded like a saint, Lapped in a scented linen sheet, On a bedstead striped with bright-blue paint, Narrow and cold and neat.

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    Elinor Wylie

    My lord, adjudge my strength, and set me where I bear a little more than I can bear.

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    Elinor Wylie

    Peaches grow wild, and pigs can live in clover; A barrel of salted herrings lasts a year; The spring begins before the winter's over.

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    Elinor Wylie

    The bird Imagination, That flies so far, that dies so soon; Her wings are colored like the sun, Her breast is colored like the moon.

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    Elinor Wylie

    The winter will be short, the summer long, The autumn amber-hued, sunny and hot, Tasting of cider and of scuppernong; All seasons sweet, but autumn best of all. The squirrels in their silver fur will fall Like falling leaves, like fruit, before your shot.

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    Elinor Wylie

    When strawberries go begging, and the sleek Blue plums lie open to the blackbird's beak, We shall live well--we shall live very well.

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    Elinor Wylie

    The icicles wreathing On trees in festoon Swing, swayed to our breathing: They’re made of the moon.

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    Elinor Wylie

    The winter will be short, the summer long, The autumn amber-hued, sunny and hot, Tasting of cider and of scuppernong.