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Put your ear down close to your soul and listen hard.

Anne Sexton

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Anne Sexton
Age: 45 †
Born: 1928
Born: November 9
Died: 1974
Died: October 4
Poet
Writer
Newton
Massachusetts
Anne Gray Harvey
Listen
Inspirational
Beautiful
Soul
Hard
Life
Ears
Creativity
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More quotes by Anne Sexton

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I remember the stink of the liverwurst. How I was put on a platter and laid between the mayonnaise and the bacon. The rhythm of the refrigerator had been disturbed.
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It would be pleasant to be drunk.
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With this pen I take in hand my selves and with these dead disciples I will grapple. Though rain curses the window let the poem be made.
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I think I've been writing black poems all along, wearing my white mask. I'm always the victim ... but no longer!
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Women tell time by the body. They are like clocks. They are always fastened to the earth, listening for its small animal noises.
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I am not lazy. I am on the amphetamine of the soul. I am, each day, typing out the God my typewriter believes in.
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Need is not quite belief.
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The beautiful feeling after writing a poem is on the whole better even than after sex, and that's saying a lot.
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I’m lost. And it’s my own fault. It’s about time I figured out that I can’t ask people to keep me found.
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I am younger each year at the first snow.
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It's a little mad, but I believe I am many people. When I am writing a poem, I feel I am the person who should have written it.
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And thus Snow White became the prince's bride. The wicked queen was invited to the wedding feast and when she arrived there were red-hot iron shoes, in the manner of red-hot roller skates, clamped upon her feet.
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As for me, I am a watercolor. I wash off.
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Inside many of us is a small old man who wants to get out.
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Yes, I know. Death sits with his key in my lock. Not one day is taken for granted. Even nursery rhymes have put me in hock.
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O yellow eye, let me be sick with your heat, let me be feverish and frowning.
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Thumbs grow into my throat. I wear slaps like a spot of rouge.
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I think it will be a miracle if I don't someday end up killing myself.
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I was only sitting here in my white study with the awful black words pushing me around.
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I try to take care and be gentle to them. Words and eggs must be handled with care. Once broken they are impossible things to repair.
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