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They [daisies] are my favorite flower. There is something innocent and vulnerable about them as if they thanked you for admiring them.

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
Thanked
Daisies
Admiring
Vulnerable
Innocent
Favorite
Flower
Something

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Everyone has left me except my muse, that good nurse. She stays in my hand, a mild white mouse.
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Even without wars, life is dangerous.
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It was as if a morning-glory had bloomed in her throat, and all that blue and small pollen ate into my heart, violent and religious
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I'm the crazy one who thinks that words reach people.
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The windows, the starving windows that drive the trees like nails into my heart.
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I who was a house full of bowel movement, I who was a defaced altar, I who wanted to crawl toward God could not move nor eat bread.
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Yes, I know. Death sits with his key in my lock. Not one day is taken for granted. Even nursery rhymes have put me in hock.
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Our eyes are full of terrible confessions.
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women are born twice.
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I hoard books. They are people who do not leave.
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All I wanted was a little piece of life, to be married, to have children.... I was trying my damnedest to lead a conventional life, for that was how I was brought up, and it was what my husband wanted of me. But one can't build little white picket fences to keep the nightmares out.
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I am not at home in myself. I am my own stranger.
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As a writer one has to take the chance on being a fool.
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Poets are sitting in my kitchen. Why do these poets lie? Why do children get children and Did you hear what it said?
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Yesterday I did not want to be borrowed but this is the typewriter that sits before me and love is where yesterday is at.
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I am not lazy. I am on the amphetamine of the soul. I am, each day, typing out the God my typewriter believes in.
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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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The trouble with therapy is that it makes life go backwards.
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