Sara Teasdale (August 8, 1884 – January 29, 1933) was an American lyric poet. In 1918 she won a Pulitzer Prize for her 1917 poetry collection Love Songs. Her husband's constant business travel caused Teasdale much loneliness. In 1929, she moved interstate for three months, thereby satisfying the criteria to gain a divorce. She did not wish to inform her spouse, only doing so at her lawyers' insistence as the divorce was going through. After the divorce she moved only two blocks from her old home on Central Park West. She rekindled her friendship with a former suitor, who was now married with children. In 1933, she died by suicide, overdosing on sleeping pills. (Click here for full Wikipedia article)
A hush is over everything, Silent as women wait for love; The world is waiting for the spring.
Beauty, more than bitterness, makes the heart break.
Call him wise whose actions, words, and steps are all a clear because to a clear why.
I found more joy in sorrow than you could find in joy.
I have no riches but my thoughts. Yet these are wealth enough for me.
I make the most of all that comes and the least of all that goes.
It is strange how often a heart must be broken before the years can make it wise.
Life has loveliness to sell, all beautiful and splendid things, blue waves whitened on a cliff, soaring fire that sways and sings, and children's faces looking up, holding wonder like a cup.
Life is but thought.
No one worth possessing can be quite possessed.
Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree
If mankind perished utterly;
And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn,
Would scarcely know that we were gone.
Of my own spirit let me be in sole though feeble mastery.
Oh who can tell the range of joy or set the bounds of beauty?
There's nothing half so real in life as the things you've done... inexorably, unalterably done.
When I can look life in the eyes,
grown calm and very coldly wise,
life will have given me the truth,
and taken in exchange- my youth.
Wisdom is not acquired save as the result of investigation.
You will recognize your own path when you come upon it because you will suddenly have all the energy and imagination you will ever need.
(August 8 is also the birthday of Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings.)