Quote

I am younger each year at the first snow. When I see it, suddenly, in the air, all little and white and moving then I am in love again and very young and I believe everything.

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
Love
Young
Littles
Younger
Little
Snow
Firsts
Suddenly
Everything
Air
First
Year
Believe
White
Years
Moving

More quotes by Anne Sexton

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True. There is a beautiful Jesus. He is frozen to his bones like a chunk of beef. How desperately he wanted to pull his arms in! How desperately I touch his vertical and horizontal axes! But I can't. Need is not quite belief.
Anne Sexton
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I am so imperfect, can you love me when really my soul is deformed? Will you love me anyhow?
Anne Sexton
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But suicides have a special language. Like carpenters they want to know which tools. They never ask why build. Twice I have so simply declared myself, have possessed the enemy, eaten the enemy, have taken on his craft, his magic.
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.
Anne Sexton
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I did not know the woman I would be nor that blood would bloom in me each month like an exotic flower, nor that children, two monuments, would break from between my legs.
Anne Sexton
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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
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And the aura of you remains, remains, remains...
Anne Sexton
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There is joy in all: in the hair I brush each morning, in the Cannon towel, newly washed, that I rub my body with each morning.
Anne Sexton
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Jesus saw the multitudes were hungry and He said, Oh Lord, send down a short-order cook.
Anne Sexton
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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
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Let there be a heaven so that man may outlive his grasses.
Anne Sexton
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A woman who writes feels too much.
Anne Sexton
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Why are all these dolls falling out of the sky? Was there a father? Or have the planets cut holes in their nets and let our childhood out, or are we the dolls themselves, born but never fed?
Anne Sexton
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The beautiful feeling after writing a poem is on the whole better even than after sex, and that's saying a lot.
Anne Sexton
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Rejoice with the day lily for it is born for a day to live by the mailbox and glorify the roadside
Anne Sexton
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All in all, I'd say, the world is strangling.
Anne Sexton
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Depression is boring, I think and I would do better to make some soup and light up the cave.
Anne Sexton
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O yellow eye, let me be sick with your heat, let me be feverish and frowning.
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.
Anne Sexton
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I rot on the wall, my own Dorian Gray.
Anne Sexton