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To be without God is to be a snake / who wants to swallow an elephant.

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
Snakes
God
Wants
Without
Snake
Elephant
Swallow
Elephants

More quotes by Anne Sexton

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Not that it was beautiful, but that I found some order there.
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My mouth blooms like a cut.
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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.
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She is so naked and singular. She is the sum of yourself and your dream. Climb her like a monument, step after step. She is solid.
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Look to your heart that flutters in and out like a moth. God is not indifferent to your need. You have a thousand prayers but God has one.
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I am teaching... This year it's kind of like having a love affair with a rhinoceros.
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In a letter (no matter how quickly it is written or honestly or freely or lovingly) it is more possible to be loving and lovable, more possible to reach out and to take in ... I feel I have somehow deceived you into thinking this is really a human relationship. It is a letter relationship between humans.
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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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I was only sitting here in my white study with the awful black words pushing me around.
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Only my books anoint me, and a few friends, those who reach into my veins.
Anne Sexton
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The Saints come, as human as a mouth, with a bag of God in their backs, like a hunchback, they come, they come marching in.
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Watch out for love (unless it is true, and every part of you says yes including the toes), it will wrap you up like a mummy, and your scream won't be heard and none of your running will run.
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Abundance is scooped from abundance yet abundance remains.
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I was spread out dailyand examined for flaws.
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Suicide is, after all, the opposite of the poem.
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What's missing is the eyeballs in each of us, but it doesn't matter because you've got the bucks, the bucks, the bucks.
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Take adultery or theft. Merely sins. It is evil who dines on the soul, stretching out its long bone tongue. It is evil who tweezers my heart, picking out its atomic worms.
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Letters are false really - they are expressions of the way you wish you were instead of the way you are.
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Father, you died once, salted down at fifty-nine, packed down like a big snow angel, wasn't that enough?
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Blue eyes wash off sometimes.
Anne Sexton