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Sometimes the soul takes pictures of things it has wished for, but never seen.

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
Soul
Sometimes
Things
Never
Wished
Pictures
Takes
Seen

More quotes by Anne Sexton

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What's missing is the eyeballs in each of us, but it doesn't matter because you've got the bucks, the bucks, the bucks.
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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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Despite my asbestos gloves, the cough is filling me with black, and a red powder seeps through my veins.
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Loving me with my shoes off means loving my long brown legs, sweet dears, as good as spoons and my feet, those two children let out to play naked.
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... a starving man doesn't ask what the meal is.
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Poor thing. To die and never see Brooklyn.
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unless I can shake myself free of my dog, my flag, of my desk, my mind, I find life a bit of a drag. Not always, mind you. Usually I'm like my frying pan useful, graceful, sturdy and with no caper, no plan.
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I like you your eyes are full of language. [Letter to Anne Clarke, July 3, 1964.]
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Depression is boring, I think and I would do better to make some soup and light up the cave.
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To love another is somethinglike prayer and it can't be planned, you just fallinto its arms because your belief undoes your disbelief.
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It would be pleasant to be drunk.
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Give me your skin as sheer as a cobweb, let me open it up and listen in and scoop out the dark.
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The trouble with therapy is that it makes life go backwards.
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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.
Anne Sexton
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God went out of me as if the sea dried up like sandpaper, as if the sun became a latrine. God went out of my fingers. They became stone. My body became a side of mutton and despair roamed the slaughterhouse.
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My faith is a great weight hung on a small wire, as doth the spider hang her baby on a thin web.
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We are America. We are the coffin fillers. We are the grocers of death. We pack them in crates like cauliflowers.
Anne Sexton
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What a lay me down this is with two pink, two orange, two green, two white goodnights.
Anne Sexton
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This is what poems are: with mercy for the greedy, they are the tongue's wrangle, the world's pottage, the rat's star.
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I am your dwarf. I am the enemy within. I am the boss of your dreams. See. Your hand shakes. It is not palsy or booze. It is your Doppelganger trying to get out. Beware...Beware...
Anne Sexton