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A woman / who loves a woman / is forever young.

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
Sexuality
Loves
Forever
Woman
Young

More quotes by Anne Sexton

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Fear / a motor, / pumps me around and around / until I fade slowly.
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Poetry is my life, my postmark, my hands, my kitchen, my face.
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Daylight is nobody's friend. God comes in like a landlord and flashes on his brassy lamp.
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O starry night, This is how I want to die
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I would like a simple life / yet all night I am laying / poems away in a long box.
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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.
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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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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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Abundance is scooped from abundance yet abundance remains.
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Our eyes are full of terrible confessions.
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Somebody who should have been born is gone.
Anne Sexton
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Well, one gets out of bed and the planets don't always hiss or muck up the day, each day.
Anne Sexton
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There is rust in my mouth,the stain of an old kiss.
Anne Sexton
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Now I am going back And I have ripped my hand From your hand as I said I would And I have made it this far.
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I am alone here in my own mind. There is no map and there is no road. It is one of a kind just as yours is.
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The beautiful feeling after writing a poem is on the whole better even than after sex, and that's saying a lot.
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Depression is boring, I think and I would do better to make some soup and light up the cave.
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Blind with love, my daughter has cried nightly for horses, those long-necked marchers and churners that she has mastered, any and all, reigning them in like a circus hand.
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The grass as bristly and stout as chives and me wondering when the ground will break and me wondering how anything fragile survives
Anne Sexton
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Being kissed on the back of the knee is a moth at the windowscreen.
Anne Sexton