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I imitatea memory of beliefthat I do not own.

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
Memories
Memory

More quotes by Anne Sexton

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If you meet a cross-eyed person you must plunge into the grass, alongside the chilly ants, fish through the green fingernails and come up with the four-leaf clover.
Anne Sexton
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I try to take care and be gentle to them. Words and eggs must be handled with care. Once broken they are impossible things to repair.
Anne Sexton
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Saints have no moderation, nor do poets, just exuberance.
Anne Sexton
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Nature is full of teeth that come in one by one, then decay, fall out.
Anne Sexton
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Inside many of us is a small old man who wants to get out.
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
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[I] have fantasies of killing myself and thus being the powerful one not the powerless one.
Anne Sexton
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But my future is a secret. / It is as shy as a mole.
Anne Sexton
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The boys and girls are one tonight. They unbutton blouses. They unzip flies. They take off shoes. They turn off the light. The glimmering creatures are full of lies. They are eating each other. They are overfed. At night, alone, I marry the bed.
Anne Sexton
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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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Blue eyes wash off sometimes.
Anne Sexton
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I think it will be a miracle if I don't someday end up killing myself.
Anne Sexton
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I’m lost. And it’s my own fault. It’s about time I figured out that I can’t ask people to keep me found.
Anne Sexton
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All I am is the trick of words writing themselves.
Anne Sexton
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God is only mocked by believers.
Anne Sexton
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I burn the way money burns.
Anne Sexton
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I am not at home in myself. I am my own stranger.
Anne Sexton
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Craft is a trick you make up to let you write the poem.
Anne Sexton
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O yellow eye, let me be sick with your heat, let me be feverish and frowning.
Anne Sexton
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Here in the hospital, I say,that is not my body, not my body.I am not here for the doctorsto read like a recipe.
Anne Sexton