Quote

And if I tried to give you something else, something outside myself, you would not know that the worst of anyone can be, finally, an accident of hope

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
Something
Tried
Would
Outside
Worst
Anyone
Hope
Else
Accident
Give
Accidents
Giving
Finally

More quotes by Anne Sexton

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Perhaps I am no one. True, I have a body and I cannot escape from it. I would like to fly out of my head, but that is out of the question.
Anne Sexton
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I was only sitting here in my white study with the awful black words pushing me around.
Anne Sexton
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As it has been said: Love and a cough cannot be concealed. Even a small cough. Even a small love.
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One can't build little white picket fences to keep nightmares out.
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All in all, I'd say, the world is strangling.
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I've grown tired of love You are the trouble with me I watch you walk right by
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When someone kisses someone or flushes the toilet it is my other who sits in a ball and cries. My other beats a tin drum in my heart. My other hangs up laundry as I try to sleep. My other cries and cries and cries when I put on a cocktail dress.
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Evil is maybe lying to God. Or better, lying to love.
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My heart is on a budget. It keeps me on the brink.
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Everyone in me is a bird I am beating all my wings
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I rot on the wall, my own Dorian Gray.
Anne Sexton
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As for me, I am a watercolor. I wash off.
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I'm the crazy one who thinks that words reach people.
Anne Sexton
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Thumbs grow into my throat. I wear slaps like a spot of rouge.
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Poets are sitting in my kitchen. Why do these poets lie? Why do children get children and Did you hear what it said?
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Fear / a motor, / pumps me around and around / until I fade slowly.
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I was the girl of the chain letter, the girl full of talk of coffins and keyholes, the one of the telephone bills, the wrinkled photo and the lost connections.
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The future is a fog that is still hanging out over the sea, a boat that floats home or does not. The trade winds blow me, and I do not know where the land is the waves fold over each other they are in love with themselves sleeping in their own skin and I float over them and I do not know about tomorrow.
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A woman who writes feels too much.
Anne Sexton
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Watch out for intellect, because it knows so much it knows nothing and leaves you hanging upside down, mouthing knowledge as your heart falls out of your mouth.
Anne Sexton