Quote

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.

Anne Sexton

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

Anne Sexton
Age: 45 †
Born: 1928
Born: November 9
Died: 1974
Died: October 4
Poet
Writer
Newton
Massachusetts
Anne Gray Harvey
Like
Cried
Horse
Blind
Necked
Daughter
Reigning
Hand
Nightly
Hands
Mastered
Long
Circus
Love
Horses

More quotes by Anne Sexton

Image
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.
Anne Sexton
Image
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.
Anne Sexton
Image
I am not at home in myself. I am my own stranger.
Anne Sexton
Image
Craft is a trick you make up to let you write the poem.
Anne Sexton
Image
I burn the way money burns.
Anne Sexton
Image
O fallen angel, the companion within me, whisper something holy before you pinch me into the grave.
Anne Sexton
Image
Evil is maybe lying to God. Or better, lying to love.
Anne Sexton
Image
Now, in my middle age, about nineteen in the head I'd say, I am rowing, I am rowing.
Anne Sexton
Image
The fish are naked. The fish are always awake. They are the color of old spoons and caramels.
Anne Sexton
Image
You must be a poet, a lady of evil luck desiring to be what you are not, longing to be what you can only visit.
Anne Sexton
Image
Love your self's self where it lives.
Anne Sexton
Image
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.
Anne Sexton
Image
Our checks are pale. Our wallets are invalids. Past due, past due, is what our bills are saying and yet we kiss in every corner, scuffing the dust and the cat. Love rises like bread as we go bust.
Anne Sexton
Image
Today God gives milk / and I have the pail.
Anne Sexton
Image
The grass as bristly and stout as chives and me wondering when the ground will break and me wondering how anything fragile survives
Anne Sexton
Image
I like you your eyes are full of language. [Letter to Anne Clarke, July 3, 1964.]
Anne Sexton
Image
I’ll put it out there: I am scarred by the nostalgic indicipherability of my own desires I an engulfed by the intimidating unknown, pushed through darkness and dragged down by the irretrievable past sweetness of my memories.
Anne Sexton
Image
Let the light be called Day so that men may grow corn or take busses.
Anne Sexton
Image
I am in my own mind. I am locked in the wrong house.
Anne Sexton
Image
Poetry to me is prayer.
Anne Sexton