Quote

Saints have no moderation, nor do poets, just exuberance.

Anne Sexton

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

Anne Sexton
Age: 45 †
Born: 1928
Born: November 9
Died: 1974
Died: October 4
Poet
Writer
Newton
Massachusetts
Anne Gray Harvey
Poets
Saint
Poet
Exuberance
Saints
Moderation

More quotes by Anne Sexton

Image
In a letter (no matter how quickly it is written or honestly or freely or lovingly) it is more possible to be loving and lovable, more possible to reach out and to take in ... I feel I have somehow deceived you into thinking this is really a human relationship. It is a letter relationship between humans.
Anne Sexton
Image
life is a trick, life is a kitten in a sack.
Anne Sexton
Image
Every time I get happy the Nana-hex comes through. Birds turn into plumber's tools, a sonnet turns into a dirty joke, a wind turns into a tracheotomy, a boat turns into a corpse.
Anne Sexton
Image
My eyes, those sluts, those whores, would play no more.
Anne Sexton
Image
I have forgiven all the old actors for dying. A new one comes on with the same lines, like large white growths, in his mouth. The dancers come on from the wings, perfectly mated.
Anne Sexton
Image
Someone is dead. Even the trees know it, those poor old dancers who come on lewdly, all pea-green scarfs and spine pole.
Anne Sexton
Image
Please God, we're all right here. Please leave us alone. Don't send death in his fat red suit and his ho-ho baritone.
Anne Sexton
Image
I am younger each year at the first snow. When I see it, suddenly, in the air, all little and white and moving then I am in love again and very young and I believe everything.
Anne Sexton
Image
I said, the poets are there I hear them singing and lying around their round table and around me still.
Anne Sexton
Image
being sixteen in the pants I died full of questions
Anne Sexton
Image
Blue eyes wash off sometimes.
Anne Sexton
Image
The windows, the starving windows that drive the trees like nails into my heart.
Anne Sexton
Image
we do not explain my husband's insane abuse and we do not say why your wild-haired wife has fled or that my father opened like a walnut and then was dead. Your palms fold over me like knees. Love is the only use.
Anne Sexton
Image
Meanwhile in my head, I’m undergoing open-heart surgery.
Anne Sexton
Image
I am out of practice at living. You are as brave as a motorcycle.
Anne Sexton
Image
Not that it was beautiful, but that, in the end, there was a certain sense of order there something worth learning in that narrow diary of my mind
Anne Sexton
Image
And tonight our skin, our bones, that have survived our fathers, will meet, delicate in the hold, fastened together in an intricate lock. Then one of us will shout, My need is more desperate! and I will eat you slowly with kisses even though the killer in you has gotten out.
Anne Sexton
Image
I am younger each year at the first snow.
Anne Sexton
Image
I was spread out dailyand examined for flaws.
Anne Sexton
Image
The snow has quietness in it no songs, no smells, no shouts or traffic. When I speak my own voice shocks me.
Anne Sexton