ms. millay, you take the cake...

[vintagemod]

love is not all: it is not meat nor drink
nor slumber nor a roof against the rain;
nor yet a floating spar to men that sink
and rise and sink and rise and sink again;
love can not fill the thickened lung with breath,
nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone;

yet many a man is making friends with death
even as i speak, for lack of love alone.
it well may be that in a difficult hour,
pinned down by pain and moaning for release,
or nagged by want past resolution's power.
i might be driven to sell your love for peace,
or trade the memory of this night for food.
it well may be. i do not think i would.