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A woman who writes feels too much.

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
Writes
Woman
Feels
Writing
Much

More quotes by Anne Sexton

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And the aura of you remains, remains, remains...
Anne Sexton
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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.
Anne Sexton
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Some women marry houses. It's another kind of skin it has a heart, a mouth, a liver and bowel movements.
Anne Sexton
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I would sell my life to avoid the pain that begins in the crib with its bars or perhaps with your first breath when the planets drill your future into you.
Anne Sexton
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I tell it stories now and then and feed it images like honey. I will not speculate today with poems that think they're money.
Anne Sexton
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I am alone here in my own mind. There is no map and there is no road. It is one of a kind just as yours is.
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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To tell the truth days are all the same size and words aren't much company.
Anne Sexton
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Daisies in water are the longest lasting flower you can give to someone. Fact. Buy daisies. Not roses.
Anne Sexton
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bike downtown, stick out tongues at the Catholics. Or form a Piss Club where we all go in the bushes and peek at each other's sex.
Anne Sexton
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The soul was not cured, it was as full as a clothes closet of dresses that did not fit.
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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My death from the wrists, two name tags, blood worn like a corsage to bloom one on the left and one on the right.
Anne Sexton
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it was my first doll that water went into and water came out of much earlier it was the diaper I wore and the dirt thereof and my mother hating me for it
Anne Sexton
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It is a dead heart. It is inside of me. It is a stranger yet once it was agreeable, opening and closing like a clam.
Anne Sexton
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And tonight our skin, our bones, that have survived our fathers, will meet, delicate in the hold, fastened together in an intricate lock. Then one of us will shout, My need is more desperate! and I will eat you slowly with kisses even though the killer in you has gotten out.
Anne Sexton
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Blue eyes wash off sometimes.
Anne Sexton
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My objects dream and wear new costumes, compelled to, it seems, by all the words in my hands and the sea that bangs in my throat.
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.
Anne Sexton
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Dead drunk is the term I think of, insensible, neither cool nor warm, without a head or a foot. To be drunk is to be intimate with a fool.
Anne Sexton