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
life-and-death learning-to-trust ready
I am not ready to die, / But I am learning to trust death / As I have trusted life.
death flower garden
In the garden the door is always open into the "holy" - growth, birth, death. Every flower holds the whole mystery in its short cycle, and in the garden we are never far away from death, the fertilizing, good, creative death.
understanding littles before-death
We are all, whether we know it or not, in search of a way to enrich, to drink during the fizz, to inhale deeper our gifts, in a desperation for some little understanding before death.
death failure loss
A garden is always a series of losses set against a few triumphs, like life itself.
essential himself love partner scholars-and-scholarship
No partner in a love relationship...should feel that he has to give up an essential part of himself to make it viable.
hour madly single stand stop time
Now there is time and time is young.O, in this single hour I liveAll of myself and do not move.I, the pursued, who madly ran,Stand still, stand still, and stop the sun!
depression illumination demand
Sometimes one has simply to endure a period of depression for what it may hold of illumination if one can live through it, attentive to what it exposes or demands.
beauty order meditation
The ambience here is order and beauty. That is what frightens me when I am first alone again. I feel inadequate. I have made an open place, a place for meditation. What if I cannot find myself inside it?
american-poet conscious creation order pure relieved
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 birth darkness faithful gardeners help
Help us to be ever faithful gardeners of the spirit, who know that without darkness nothing comes to birth, and without light nothing flowers.
light snow abstraction
Light is snow sifted / To an abstraction.
murder
They are commiting murder who merely live.
want recognition terror
I asked myself the question, 'What do you want of your life?' and I realized with a start of recognition and terror, 'Exactly what I have - but to be commensurate, to handle it all better.
comfort conflict desperate
For to be desperate is to discover strength. / We die of comfort and by conflict live ...