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Sometimes I fly like an eagle but with the wings of a wren

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
Wings
Sometimes
Life
Like
Wren
Wrens
Eagle
Eagles

More quotes by Anne Sexton

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There is joy in all: in the hair I brush each morning, in the Cannon towel, newly washed, that I rub my body with each morning.
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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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All day I've built a lifetime and now the sun sinks to undo it.
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No matter whose bed you die in the bed will be yours for your voyage onto the surgical andiron of God.
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I rot on the wall, my own Dorian Gray.
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It is in the small things we see it. The child's first step, as awesome as an earthquake. The first time you rode a bike, wallowing up the sidewalk.
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The snow has quietness in it no songs, no smells, no shouts or traffic. When I speak my own voice shocks me.
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Then all this became history. Your hand found mine. Life rushed to my fingers like a blood clot. Oh, my carpenter, the fingers are rebuilt. They dance with yours.
Anne Sexton
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They [daisies] are my favorite flower. There is something innocent and vulnerable about them as if they thanked you for admiring them.
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Big heart, wide as a watermelon, but wise as birth, there is so much abundance in the people I have.
Anne Sexton
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All considerations for these human remains! They must have an escort! They are classified!
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I wonder if the artist ever lives his life--he is so busy recreating it.
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The boys and girls are one tonight. They unbutton blouses. They unzip flies. They take off shoes. They turn off the light. The glimmering creatures are full of lies. They are eating each other. They are overfed. At night, alone, I marry the bed.
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Someone is dead. Even the trees know it, those poor old dancers who come on lewdly, all pea-green scarfs and spine pole.
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Saints have no moderation, nor do poets, just exuberance.
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Those moments before a poem comes, when the heightened awareness comes over you, and you realize a poem is buried there somewhere, you prepare yourself. I run around, you know, kind of skipping around the house, marvelous elation. It’s as though I could fly.
Anne Sexton
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Today God gives milk / and I have the pail.
Anne Sexton
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I tied down time with a rope but it came back. Then I put my head in a death bowl and my eyes shut up like clams. They didn't come back.
Anne Sexton
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Poetry is my life, my postmark, my hands, my kitchen, my face.
Anne Sexton
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Psychiatry is a dirty mirror.
Anne Sexton