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To love another is somethinglike prayer and it can't be planned, you just fallinto its arms because your belief undoes your disbelief.

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
Another
Love
Undoes
Disbelief
Planned
Arms
Prayer
Belief

More quotes by Anne Sexton

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Saints have no moderation, nor do poets, just exuberance.
Anne Sexton
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Once I was beautiful. Now I am myself, Counting this row and that row of moccasins Waiting on the silent shelf.
Anne Sexton
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Poetry to me is prayer.
Anne Sexton
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Pulling off the fat diamond engagement ring, pulling off the elopement wedding ring, and holding them, clicking them in thumb and forefinger, the indent of twenty-five years, like a tiny rip leaving its mark.
Anne Sexton
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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.
Anne Sexton
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I wonder if the artist ever lives his life--he is so busy recreating it.
Anne Sexton
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Now I am just an elderly lady who is full of spleen, who humps around greater Boston in a God-awful hat, who never lived and yet outlived her time, hating men and dogs and Democrats.
Anne Sexton
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I burn the way money burns.
Anne Sexton
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I leave you, home, when I'm ripped from the doorstep by commerce or fate. Then I submit to the awful subway of the world.
Anne Sexton
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we do not explain my husband's insane abuse and we do not say why your wild-haired wife has fled or that my father opened like a walnut and then was dead. Your palms fold over me like knees. Love is the only use.
Anne Sexton
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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...
Anne Sexton
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Depression is boring, I think and I would do better to make some soup and light up the cave.
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.
Anne Sexton
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The little girl skipped by under the wrinkled oak leaves and held fast to a replica of herself.
Anne Sexton
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Blue eyes wash off sometimes.
Anne Sexton
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Our eyes are full of terrible confessions.
Anne Sexton
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I think I've been writing black poems all along, wearing my white mask. I'm always the victim ... but no longer!
Anne Sexton
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All considerations for these human remains! They must have an escort! They are classified!
Anne Sexton
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We are all writing God's poem.
Anne Sexton
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When I lie down to love, old dwarf heart shakes her head. Like an imbecile she was born old.
Anne Sexton