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What a lay me down this is with two pink, two orange, two green, two white goodnights.

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
Lays
Medicine
Green
Sleep
White
Two
Pink
Orange

More quotes by Anne Sexton

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Suddenly I'm not half the girl I used to be. There's a shadow hanging over me . . . From me to you out of my electric devil.
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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.
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I'm the crazy one who thinks that words reach people.
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I can only sign over everything, the house, the dog, the ladders, the jewels, the soul, the family tree, the mailbox. Then I can sleep. Maybe.
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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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Let there be a heaven so that man may outlive his grasses.
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Take a woman talking, purging herself with rhymes, drumming words out like a typewriter, planting words in you like grass seed. You'll move off.
Anne Sexton
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When I lie down to love, old dwarf heart shakes her head. Like an imbecile she was born old.
Anne Sexton
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I would sell my life to avoid the pain that begins in the crib with its bars or perhaps with your first breath when the planets drill your future into you.
Anne Sexton
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O fallen angel, the companion within me, whisper something holy before you pinch me into the grave.
Anne Sexton
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Cinderella and the prince lived, they say, happily ever after, like two dolls in a museum case never bothered by diapers or dust, never arguing over the timing of an egg, never telling the same story twice.
Anne Sexton
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Take adultery or theft. Merely sins. It is evil who dines on the soul, stretching out its long bone tongue. It is evil who tweezers my heart, picking out its atomic worms.
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Sometimes I fly like an eagle but with the wings of a wren
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It's a little mad, but I believe I am many people. When I am writing a poem, I feel I am the person who should have written it.
Anne Sexton
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O starry night, This is how I want to die
Anne Sexton
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I tell it stories now and then and feed it images like honey. I will not speculate today with poems that think they're money.
Anne Sexton
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Somebody who should have been born is gone. Yes, woman, such logic will lead to loss without death. Or say what you meant, you coward . . . this baby that I bleed.
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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.
Anne Sexton
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I hoard books. They are people who do not leave.
Anne Sexton
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Our children tremble in their teen-age cribs, whirling off on a thumb or a motorcycle.
Anne Sexton