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Daylight is nobody's friend. God comes in like a landlord and flashes on his brassy lamp.

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
Flash
Friend
Nobody
Morning
Flashes
Comes
Landlord
Like
Lamp
Daylight
Lamps

More quotes by Anne Sexton

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The windows, the starving windows that drive the trees like nails into my heart.
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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.
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Inside many of us is a small old man who wants to get out.
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I think it will be a miracle if I don't someday end up killing myself.
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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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I am tearing the feathers out of the pillows, waiting, waiting for Daddy to come home and stuff me so full of our infected child that I turn invisible, but married, at last.
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Oh thumb, I want a drink it is dark, where are the big people, when will I get there...?
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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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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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My eyes, those sluts, those whores, would play no more.
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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.
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If the doctors cure then the sun sees it. If the doctors kill then the earth hides it. The doctors should fear arrogance more than cardiac arrest.
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As for me, I am a watercolor. I wash off.
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I was only sitting here in my white study with the awful black words pushing me around.
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I would like to bury all the hating eyes under the sand somewhere.
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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.
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Maybe, although my heart is a kitten of butter, I am blowing it up like a zeppelin.
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There is hope. There is hope everywhere. Today God give milk and I have the pail.
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Well, one gets out of bed and the planets don't always hiss or muck up the day, each day.
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The family story tells, and it was told true, of my great-grandfather who begat eight genius children and bought twelve almost new grand pianos. He left a considerable estate when he died.
Anne Sexton