What did May Sarton mean by: A holiday gives one a chance to look backward and forward; to reset oneself by an inner compass. May Sarton Poet · Belgium Copy
Being very rich as far as I am concerned is having a margin. The margin is being able to give. Author, January 16, 2024January 9, 2025, May Sarton, Generosity, Margin, Wealth, 0 May Sarton Poet · Belgium
You will always be here with me; As long as I live, A towering figure of love. Author, January 16, 2024January 9, 2025, May Sarton, Eternal, Love, Remembrance, 0 May Sarton Poet · Belgium
+ At any moment solitude may put on the face of loneliness. Author, July 5, 2023January 2, 2025, May Sarton, Loneliness, Solitude, Transformation, 0 May Sarton Poet · Belgium
In the novel or the journal you get the journey. In a poem you get the arrival. Author, January 16, 2024January 9, 2025, May Sarton, Arrival, Journey, Transformation, 0 May Sarton Poet · Belgium
It is always hard to hear the buried truth from another person. Author, January 16, 2024January 9, 2025, May Sarton, Communication, Difficulty, Truth, 0 May Sarton Poet · Belgium
+ Time spent with poets is never wasted. Author, November 2, 2023January 2, 2025, May Sarton, Connection, Creativity, Inspiration, 0 May Sarton Poet · Belgium
+ We have to dare to be ourselves, however frightening or strange that self may prove to be. Author, September 12, 2023January 2, 2025, May Sarton, Authenticity, Courage, Individuality, 0 May Sarton Poet · Belgium
Solitude is the salt of personhood. It brings out the authentic flavor of every experience. Author, January 16, 2024January 9, 2025, May Sarton, Authenticity, Experience, Solitude, 0 May Sarton Poet · Belgium
After the writer’s death, reading his journal is like receiving a long letter. Read explanation Jean Cocteau Artist · France
Mirrors would do well to reflect a little more before sending back images. Jean Cocteau Artist · France
Watch yourself all your life in a mirror and you’ll see Death at work like bees in a glass hive. Jean Cocteau Artist · France
A verbal art like poetry is reflective; it stops to think. Music is immediate, it goes on to become. W. H. Auden Poet · England
