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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
Words
Tell
Truth
Much
Size
Aren
Days
Company

More quotes by Anne Sexton

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All in all, I'd say, the world is strangling.
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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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There is an animal inside me, clutching fast to my heart, a huge crab.
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Loving me with my shoes off means loving my long brown legs, sweet dears, as good as spoons and my feet, those two children let out to play naked.
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O yellow eye, let me be sick with your heat, let me be feverish and frowning.
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Home is my Bethlehem, my succoring shelter, my mental hospital, my wife, my dam, my husband, my sir, my womb, my skull.
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At six I lived in a graveyard full of dolls, avoiding myself, my body, the suspect in its grotesque house.
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being sixteen in the pants I died full of questions
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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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A woman / who loves a woman / is forever young.
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The ground has on its clothes. The trees poke out of sheets and each branch wears the sock of God.
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I am your dwarf. I am the enemy within. I am the boss of your dreams. See. Your hand shakes. It is not palsy or booze. It is your Doppelganger trying to get out. Beware...Beware...
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I cannot walk an inch / without trying to walk to God.
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The sky breaks. It sags and breathes upon my face. in the presence of mine enemies, mine enemies The world is full of enemies. There is no safe place.
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I love the word warm. It is almost unbearable-- so moist and breathlike.
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There is joy in all: in the hair I brush each morning, in the Cannon towel, newly washed, that I rub my body with each morning.
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Emerald as heavy as a golf course, ruby as dark as an afterbirth, diamond as white as sun on the sea.
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Not that it was beautiful, but that, in the end, there was a certain sense of order there something worth learning in that narrow diary of my mind
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I am so imperfect, can you love me when really my soul is deformed? Will you love me anyhow?
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Fee-fi-fo-fum - Now I'm borrowed. Now I'm numb.
Anne Sexton