May Sarton
May Sarton
May Sarton is the pen name of Eleanore Marie Sarton, an American poet, novelist and memoirist...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionNon-Fiction Author
Date of Birth3 May 1912
CountryUnited States of America
lying grief sky
There are some griefs so loud/They could bring down the sky/And there are griefs so still/None knows how deep they lie.
spring believe loss
I would like to believe when I die that I have given myself away like a tree that sows seed every spring and never counts the loss, because it is not loss, it is adding to future life. It is the tree's way of being. Strongly rooted perhaps, but spilling out its treasure on the wind.
opposites mind certain
The minute one utters a certainty, the opposite comes to mind.
life patience nature
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.
inspirational dream real
We have to dare to be ourselves, however frightening or strange that self may prove to be.
light important lines
I always forget how important the empty days are, how important it may be sometimes not to expect to produce anything, even a few lines in a journal. A day when one has not pushed oneself to the limit seems a damaged damaging day, a sinful day. Not so! The most valuable thing one can do for the psyche, occasionally, is to let it rest, wander, live in the changing light of a room.
morning flower light
One thing is certain, and I have always known it - the joys of my life have nothing to do with age. They do not change. Flowers, the morning and evening light, music, poetry, silence, the goldfinches darting about
pain thinking joy
Joy, happiness ... we do not question. They are beyond question, maybe. A matter of being. But pain forces us to think, and to make connections ... to discover what has been happening to cause it. And, curiously enough, pain draws us to other human beings in a significant way, whereas joy or happiness to some extent, isolates.
letting-go pain fall
I think of the trees and how simply they let go, let fall the riches of a season, how without grief (it seems) they can let go and go deep into their roots for renewal and sleep.... Imitate the trees. Learn to lose in order to recover, and remember that nothing stays the same for long, not even pain, psychic pain. Sit it out. Let it all pass. Let it go.
love inspirational flower
Without darkness, nothing comes to birth, As without light, nothing flowers.
giving letters easier
letters are so much easier than living. One can give one's best.
thinking long parent
we are never done with thinking about our parents, I suppose, and come to know them better long after they are dead than we ever did when they were alive.
order disorder sacraments
making order out of disorder any time, anywhere, can be regarded as a sacrament.
order curious feels
It is curious how any making of order makes one feel mentally ordered, ordered inside.