Quote

Please God, we're all right here. Please leave us alone. Don't send death in his fat red suit and his ho-ho baritone.

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
Death
Fats
Right
Suits
Send
Red
God
Baritone
Please
Baritones
Leave
Suit
Alone
Contentment

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Once I was beautiful. Now I am myself, Counting this row and that row of moccasins Waiting on the silent shelf.
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Give me your skin as sheer as a cobweb, let me open it up and listen in and scoop out the dark.
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All in all, I'd say, the world is strangling.
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It would be pleasant to be drunk.
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Oh, darling, let your body in, let it tie you in, in comfort.
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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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I must always forget how one word is able to pick out another, to manner another, until I have got something I might have said... but did not.
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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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we do not explain my husband's insane abuse and we do not say why your wild-haired wife has fled or that my father opened like a walnut and then was dead. Your palms fold over me like knees. Love is the only use.
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I am not lazy. I am on the amphetamine of the soul. I am, each day, typing out the God my typewriter believes in.
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Bless all useful objects, the spoons made of bone, the mattress I cook my dreams upon, the typewriter that is my church with an altar of keys always waiting.
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The snow has quietness in it no songs, no smells, no shouts or traffic. When I speak my own voice shocks me.
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It was as if a morning-glory had bloomed in her throat, and all that blue and small pollen ate into my heart, violent and religious
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My ideas are a curse. They spring from a radical discontent with the awful order of things. I play clown. I play carpenter. I play nurse. I play witch.
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I rot on the wall, my own Dorian Gray.
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