Quote

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
Favorite
Flower
Something
Thanked
Daisies
Admiring
Vulnerable
Innocent

More quotes by Anne Sexton

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Of course the New Testament is very small. Its mouth opens four times as out-of-date as a prehistoric monster, yet somehow man-made.
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One can't build little white picket fences to keep nightmares out.
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My husband sings Baa Baa black sheep and we pretend that all's certain and good, that the marriage won't end.
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You lay, a small knuckle on my white bed lay, that fist like a snail, small and strong at my breast. Your lips are animals you are fed with love. At first, hunger is not wrong.
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Nature is full of teeth that come in one by one, then decay, fall out.
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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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So I won't hang around in my hospital shift, repeating The Black Mass and all of it. I say Live, Live because of the sun, the dream, the excitable gift.
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I would sell my life to avoid the pain that begins in the crib with its bars or perhaps with your first breath when the planets drill your future into you.
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Every time I get happy the Nana-hex comes through. Birds turn into plumber's tools, a sonnet turns into a dirty joke, a wind turns into a tracheotomy, a boat turns into a corpse.
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Evil is maybe lying to God. Or better, lying to love.
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Come, my pretender, my fritter, my bubbler, my chicken biddy! Oh succulent one, it is but one turn in the road and I would be a cannibal!
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There is hope. There is hope everywhere. Today God give milk and I have the pail.
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And we are magic talking to itself, noisy and alone. I am queen of all my sins forgotten. Am I still lost? Once I was beautiful. Now I am myself
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My faith is a great weight hung on a small wire, as doth the spider hang her baby on a thin web.
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Even so, I must admire your skill. You are so gracefully insane.
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... a starving man doesn't ask what the meal is.
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I suffer for birds and fireflies but not frogs, she said, and threw him across the room. Kaboom! Like a genie out of a samovar, a handsome prince arose in the corner of the bedroom.
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Poetry to me is prayer.
Anne Sexton
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Our eyes are full of terrible confessions.
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It doesn't matter who my father was it matters who I remember he was.
Anne Sexton