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To tell the truth days are all the same size and words aren't much company.

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
Tell
Truth
Much
Size
Aren
Days
Company
Words

More quotes by 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.
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In a dream you are never eighty.
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O fallen angel, the companion within me, whisper something holy before you pinch me into the grave.
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Then all this became history. Your hand found mine. Life rushed to my fingers like a blood clot. Oh, my carpenter, the fingers are rebuilt. They dance with yours.
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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 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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And the aura of you remains, remains, remains...
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I burn the way money burns.
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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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Oh sharp diamond, my mother! I could not count the cost of all your faces, your moods that present that I lost. Sweet girl, my deathbed, my jewel-fingered lady...
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There is rust in my mouth,the stain of an old kiss.
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It doesn't matter who my father was it matters who I remember he was.
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Today God gives milk / and I have the pail.
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Everyone in me is a bird I am beating all my wings
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What's the point of fighting the dollars when all you need is a warm bed? When the dog barks you let him in. All we need is someone to let us in. And one other thing: to consider the lilies in the field.
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I said, the poets are there I hear them singing and lying around their round table and around me still.
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I have forgiven all the old actors for dying. A new one comes on with the same lines, like large white growths, in his mouth. The dancers come on from the wings, perfectly mated.
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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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Oh, darling, let your body in, let it tie you in, in comfort.
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The sea is mother-death and she is a mighty female, the one who wins, the one who sucks us all up.
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