Quote

I'll Vacuum up my stale hair, I'll pay all my neighbors' bad debts, I'll write a poem called Yellow and put my lips down to drink it up.

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
Drink
Neighbors
Hair
Yellow
Joy
Poem
Called
Neighbor
Hope
Debt
Debts
Write
Lips
Vacuums
Writing
Motivation
Vacuum
Pay
Stale

More quotes by Anne Sexton

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What's missing is the eyeballs in each of us, but it doesn't matter because you've got the bucks, the bucks, the bucks.
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Here in the hospital, I say,that is not my body, not my body.I am not here for the doctorsto read like a recipe.
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O starry night, This is how I want to die
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When the cow gives blood and the Christ is born we must all eat sacrifices. We must all eat beautiful women.
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And tonight our skin, our bones, that have survived our fathers, will meet, delicate in the hold, fastened together in an intricate lock. Then one of us will shout, My need is more desperate! and I will eat you slowly with kisses even though the killer in you has gotten out.
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Being kissed on the back of the knee is a moth at the windowscreen.
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Rats live on no evil star
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... man is eating the earth up like a candy bar.
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As for me, I am a watercolor. I wash off.
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So I won't hang around in my hospital shift, repeating The Black Mass and all of it. I say Live, Live because of the sun, the dream, the excitable gift.
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I tell you what you’ll never really know: all the medical hypothesis that explained my brain will never be as true as these struck leaves letting go.
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No matter whose bed you die in the bed will be yours for your voyage onto the surgical andiron of God.
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I was spread out dailyand examined for flaws.
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Big heart, wide as a watermelon, but wise as birth, there is so much abundance in the people I have.
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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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For I could not read or speak and on the long nights I could not turn the moon off or count the lights of cars across the ceiling.
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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.
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My sleeping pill is white. It is a splendid pearl it floats me out of myself, my stung skin as alien as a loose bolt of cloth.
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All considerations for these human remains! They must have an escort! They are classified!
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Then God spoke to me and said: People say only good things about Christmas. If they want to say something bad, they whisper.
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