Quote

Poetry is my life, my postmark, my hands, my kitchen, my face.

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
Kitchen
Poetry
Face
Faces
Hands
Life

More quotes by Anne Sexton

Image
The windows, the starving windows that drive the trees like nails into my heart.
Anne Sexton
Image
We talked death with burned-up intensity, both of us drawn to it like moths to an electric light bulb. Sucking on it!
Anne Sexton
Image
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.
Anne Sexton
Image
Somebody who should have been born is gone. Yes, woman, such logic will lead to loss without death. Or say what you meant, you coward . . . this baby that I bleed.
Anne Sexton
Image
Of course the New Testament is very small. Its mouth opens four times as out-of-date as a prehistoric monster, yet somehow man-made.
Anne Sexton
Image
I tell you what you’ll never really know: all the medical hypothesis that explained my brain will never be as true as these struck leaves letting go.
Anne Sexton
Image
Take your foot out of the graveyard, they are busy being dead.
Anne Sexton
Image
Oh thumb, I want a drink it is dark, where are the big people, when will I get there...?
Anne Sexton
Image
Then God spoke to me and said: People say only good things about Christmas. If they want to say something bad, they whisper.
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
The fish are naked. The fish are always awake. They are the color of old spoons and caramels.
Anne Sexton
Image
To tell the truth days are all the same size and words aren't much company.
Anne Sexton
Image
think of innocent Icarus who is doing quite well: larger than a sail, over the fog and the blast of the plushy ocean, he goes. Admire his wings!
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
Evil is maybe lying to God. Or better, lying to love.
Anne Sexton
Image
O starry night, This is how I want to die
Anne Sexton
Image
All who love have lied.
Anne Sexton
Image
I lay there silently, hoarding my small dignity. I did not ask about the gate or the closet. I did not question the bedtime ritual where, on the cold bathroom tiles, I was spread out daily and examined for flaws. I did not know that my bones, those solids, those pieces of sculpture would not splinter.
Anne Sexton
Image
Mood can be as important as sense.
Anne Sexton
Image
My safe, safe psychosis is broken. It was hard. It was made of stone. It covered my face like a mask. But it has cracked.
Anne Sexton