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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.

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
Prayer
Belief
Better
Inherit
Human
Extension
Humans
Extensions
Heart
Closest
Love
Closer
Worse

More quotes by Anne Sexton

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Put your ear down close to your soul and listen hard.
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All considerations for these human remains! They must have an escort! They are classified!
Anne Sexton
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Don't bite till you know if it's bread or stone.
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There is no word for time. Today we will not think to number another summer or watch its white bird into the ground.
Anne Sexton
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Put your mouthful of words away and come with me to watch the lilies open in such a field, growing there like yachts, slowly steering their petals without nurses or clocks.
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I will be steel! I will build a steel bridge over my need! I will build a bomb shelter over my heart! But my future is a secret. It is as shy as a mole.
Anne Sexton
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Now I am just an elderly lady who is full of spleen, who humps around greater Boston in a God-awful hat, who never lived and yet outlived her time, hating men and dogs and Democrats.
Anne Sexton
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In a dream you are never eighty.
Anne Sexton
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God is only mocked by believers.
Anne Sexton
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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.
Anne Sexton
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When I'm writing, I know I'm doing the thing I was born to do.
Anne Sexton
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Maybe, although my heart is a kitten of butter, I am blowing it up like a zeppelin.
Anne Sexton
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O fallen angel, the companion within me, whisper something holy before you pinch me into the grave.
Anne Sexton
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Yes, I know. Death sits with his key in my lock. Not one day is taken for granted. Even nursery rhymes have put me in hock.
Anne Sexton
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Today God gives milk / and I have the pail.
Anne Sexton
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With this pen I take in hand my selves and with these dead disciples I will grapple. Though rain curses the window let the poem be made.
Anne Sexton
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Today is made of yesterday, each time I steal toward rites I do not know, waiting for the lost ingredient, as if salt or money or even lust would keep us calm and prove us whole at last.
Anne Sexton
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I sit at my desk each night with no place to go, opening the wrinkled maps of Milwaukee and Buffalo, the whole U.S., its cemeteries, its arbitrary time zones, through routes like small veins, capitals like small stones.
Anne Sexton
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Even without wars, life is dangerous.
Anne Sexton
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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.
Anne Sexton