Quote

Today is made of yesterday, each time I steal toward rites I do not know, waiting for the lost ingredient, as if salt or money or even lust would keep us calm and prove us whole at last.

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
Even
Waiting
Ingredients
Made
Lasts
Salt
Would
Last
Lust
Time
Lost
Stealing
Keep
Yesterday
Rites
Money
Calm
Rite
Today
Toward
Ingredient
Whole
Prove
Steal

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Oh, darling, let your body in, let it tie you in, in comfort.
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My business is words. Words are like labels, or coins, or better, like swarming bees.
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When I'm writing, I know I'm doing the thing I was born to do.
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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 stuffing your mouth with your promises and watching you vomit them out upon my face.
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I did not know the woman I would be nor that blood would bloom in me each month like an exotic flower, nor that children, two monuments, would break from between my legs.
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Daisies in water are the longest lasting flower you can give to someone. Fact. Buy daisies. Not roses.
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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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this is no dream just my oily life where the people are alibis and the street is unfindable for an entire lifetime.
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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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There is rust in my mouth,the stain of an old kiss.
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Poets are sitting in my kitchen. Why do these poets lie? Why do children get children and Did you hear what it said?
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Let there be seasons so that our tongues will be rich in asparagus and limes.
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Talk to me about sadness. I talk about it too much in my own head but I never mind others talking about it either I occasionally feel like I tremendously need others to talk about it as well.
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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.
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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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Evil is maybe lying to God. Or better, lying to love.
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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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Today God gives milk / and I have the pail.
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