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And the aura of you remains, remains, remains...

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
Aura
Auras
Remains

More quotes by Anne Sexton

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Don't bite till you know if it's bread or stone.
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A woman / who loves a woman / is forever young.
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Not that it was beautiful, but that I found some order there.
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We talked death with burned-up intensity, both of us drawn to it like moths to an electric light bulb. Sucking on it!
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My safe, safe psychosis is broken. It was hard. It was made of stone. It covered my face like a mask. But it has cracked.
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I remember the stink of the liverwurst. How I was put on a platter and laid between the mayonnaise and the bacon. The rhythm of the refrigerator had been disturbed.
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The snow has quietness in it no songs, no smells, no shouts or traffic. When I speak my own voice shocks me.
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Poems aren't postcards to send home.
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She is so naked and singular. She is the sum of yourself and your dream. Climb her like a monument, step after step. She is solid.
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Let there be seasons so that our tongues will be rich in asparagus and limes.
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Saints have no moderation, nor do poets, just exuberance.
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I would like to think that no one would die anymore if we all believed in daisies but the worms know better, don't they? They slide into the ear of a corpse and listen to his great sigh.
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Thief!- how did you crawl into, crawl down alone into the death I wanted so badly and for so long.
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Jesus saw the multitudes were hungry and He said, Oh Lord, send down a short-order cook.
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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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There is no word for time. Today we will not think to number another summer or watch its white bird into the ground.
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God owns heaven but He craves the earth.
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You cutting the lawn, fixing the machines, all this leprous day and then more vodka, more soda and the pond forgiving our bodies, the pond sucking out the throb.
Anne Sexton
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One can't build little white picket fences to keep nightmares out.
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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