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In a dream you are never eighty.

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
Aging
Youth
Age
Dream
Never
Eighty
Dreamer

More quotes by Anne Sexton

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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.
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Craft is a trick you make up to let you write the poem.
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Not that it was beautiful, but that I found some order there.
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Take your foot out of the graveyard, they are busy being dead.
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The soul was not cured, it was as full as a clothes closet of dresses that did not fit.
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The grass as bristly and stout as chives and me wondering when the ground will break and me wondering how anything fragile survives
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Women tell time by the body. They are like clocks. They are always fastened to the earth, listening for its small animal noises.
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My eyes, those sluts, those whores, would play no more.
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For forty days, for forty nights Jesus put one foot in front of the other and the man he carried, if it was a man, became heavier and heavier.
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All I wanted was a little piece of life, to be married, to have children.... I was trying my damnedest to lead a conventional life, for that was how I was brought up, and it was what my husband wanted of me. But one can't build little white picket fences to keep the nightmares out.
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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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Now that I have written many words, and let out so many loves, for so many, and been altogether what I always was a woman of excess, of zeal and greed, I find the effort useless.
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In a letter (no matter how quickly it is written or honestly or freely or lovingly) it is more possible to be loving and lovable, more possible to reach out and to take in ... I feel I have somehow deceived you into thinking this is really a human relationship. It is a letter relationship between humans.
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I’m lost. And it’s my own fault. It’s about time I figured out that I can’t ask people to keep me found.
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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
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Images are the heart of poetry ... You're not a poet without imagery.
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Writers are such phonies: they sometimes have wise insights but they don't live by them at all. That's what writers are like...you think they know something, but usually they are just messes.
Anne Sexton
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Blind with love, my daughter has cried nightly for horses, those long-necked marchers and churners that she has mastered, any and all, reigning them in like a circus hand.
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The family story tells, and it was told true, of my great-grandfather who begat eight genius children and bought twelve almost new grand pianos. He left a considerable estate when he died.
Anne Sexton
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I grow old on my bitterness.
Anne Sexton