Quote

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

More quotes by Anne Sexton

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And we are magic talking to itself, noisy and alone. I am queen of all my sins forgotten. Am I still lost? Once I was beautiful. Now I am myself
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Please God, we're all right here. Please leave us alone. Don't send death in his fat red suit and his ho-ho baritone.
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When I lie down to love, old dwarf heart shakes her head. Like an imbecile she was born old.
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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.
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I see myself as one would see another. I have been cut in two.
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Oh sharp diamond, my mother! I could not count the cost of all your faces, your moods that present that I lost. Sweet girl, my deathbed, my jewel-fingered lady...
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Thumbs grow into my throat. I wear slaps like a spot of rouge.
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Frog has no nerves. Frog is as old as a cockroach. Frog is my father's genitals. Frog is a malformed doorknob. Frog is a soft bag of green.
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The day of fire is coming, the thrush will fly ablaze like a little sky rocket.
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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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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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Today God gives milk / and I have the pail.
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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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The fish are naked. The fish are always awake. They are the color of old spoons and caramels.
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Every time I get happy the Nana-hex comes through. Birds turn into plumber's tools, a sonnet turns into a dirty joke, a wind turns into a tracheotomy, a boat turns into a corpse.
Anne Sexton
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Now, in my middle age, about nineteen in the head I'd say, I am rowing, I am rowing.
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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You who have inhabited me in the deepest and most broken place, are going, going
Anne Sexton
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The town is silent. The night boils with eleven stars. Oh starry starry night! This is how I want to die.
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I brush my hair, waiting in the pain machine for my bones to get hard, for the soft, soft bones that were laid apart and were screwed together. They will knit. And the other corpse, the fractured heart, I feed it piecemeal, little chalice. I'm good to it.
Anne Sexton