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The trouble with therapy is that it makes life go backwards.

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
Trouble
Makes
Life
Backwards
Therapy

More quotes by Anne Sexton

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In a dream you are never eighty.
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Watch out for intellect, because it knows so much it knows nothing and leaves you hanging upside down, mouthing knowledge as your heart falls out of your mouth.
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To tell the truth days are all the same size and words aren't much company.
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I'm an empress. I wear an apron. My typewriter writes. It didn't break the way it warned. Even crazy, I'm as nice as a chocolate bar.
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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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I tell you what you’ll never really know: all the medical hypothesis that explained my brain will never be as true as these struck leaves letting go.
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it was my first doll that water went into and water came out of much earlier it was the diaper I wore and the dirt thereof and my mother hating me for it
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Blue eyes wash off sometimes.
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Poor thing. To die and never see Brooklyn.
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Earth, earthriding your merry-go-roundtoward extinction,right to the rootsthickening the oceans like gravy,festering in your caves,you are becoming a latrine.
Anne Sexton
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I, in my brand new body, which was not a woman's yet, told the stars my questions and thought God could really see the heat and the painted light, elbows, knees, dreams, goodnight.
Anne Sexton
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It is in the small things we see it. The child's first step, as awesome as an earthquake. The first time you rode a bike, wallowing up the sidewalk.
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For forty days, for forty nights Jesus put one foot in front of the other and the man he carried, if it was a man, became heavier and heavier.
Anne Sexton
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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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God has a brown voice, as soft and full as beer.
Anne Sexton
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Put your ear down close to your soul and listen hard.
Anne Sexton
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No one to hate except the slim fish of memory that slides in and out of my brain.
Anne Sexton
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The ground has on its clothes. The trees poke out of sheets and each branch wears the sock of God.
Anne Sexton
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God went out of me as if the sea dried up like sandpaper, as if the sun became a latrine.
Anne Sexton
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Letters are false really - they are expressions of the way you wish you were instead of the way you are.
Anne Sexton