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The sanest thing in this world is love.

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
Thing
Love
Thinking
World
Sanest

More quotes by Anne Sexton

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Inside many of us is a small old man who wants to get out.
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The little girl skipped by under the wrinkled oak leaves and held fast to a replica of herself.
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Somebody who should have been born is gone.
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One of my secret instructions to myself as a poet is Whatever you do, don't be boring.
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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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Rocks crumble, make new forms, oceans move the continents, mountains rise up and down like ghosts yet all is natural, all is change.
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I love you. You are closest to my heart, closer than any other human being. You are my extension. You are my prayer. You are my belief in God. For better or worse you inherit me.
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It's a little mad, but I believe I am many people. When I am writing a poem, I feel I am the person who should have written it.
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Images are probably the most important part of the poem. First of all you want to tell a story, but images are what are going to shore it up and get to the heart of the matter.
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Daylight is nobody's friend. God comes in like a landlord and flashes on his brassy lamp.
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Love your self's self where it lives.
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God owns heaven but He craves the earth.
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The stars are pears that no one can reach, even for a wedding. Perhaps for a death.
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Be careful of words, / ... they can be both daisies and bruises.
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this is no dream just my oily life where the people are alibis and the street is unfindable for an entire lifetime.
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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.
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I grow old on my bitterness.
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O fallen angel, the companion within me, whisper something holy before you pinch me into the grave.
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Let there be a heaven so that man may outlive his grasses.
Anne Sexton
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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