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And thus Snow White became the prince's bride. The wicked queen was invited to the wedding feast and when she arrived there were red-hot iron shoes, in the manner of red-hot roller skates, clamped upon her feet.
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
White
Snow
Invited
Clamped
Red
Wedding
Skates
Thus
Queen
Roller
Shoes
Queens
Bride
Became
Wicked
Feast
Marriage
Iron
Brides
Feet
Manner
Arrived
Upon
Hot
Prince
More quotes by Anne Sexton
I'm an empress. I wear an apron. My typewriter writes. It didn't break the way it warned. Even crazy, I'm as nice as a chocolate bar.
Anne Sexton
I leave you, home, when I'm ripped from the doorstep by commerce or fate. Then I submit to the awful subway of the world.
Anne Sexton
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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The future is a fog that is still hanging out over the sea, a boat that floats home or does not.
Anne Sexton
Father, you died once, salted down at fifty-nine, packed down like a big snow angel, wasn't that enough?
Anne Sexton
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
The tongue, the Chinese say, is like a sharp knife: it kills without drawing blood.
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Frog has no nerves. Frog is as old as a cockroach. Frog is my father's genitals. Frog is a malformed doorknob. Frog is a soft bag of green.
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Women tell time by the body. They are like clocks. They are always fastened to the earth, listening for its small animal noises.
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One of my secret instructions to myself as a poet is Whatever you do, don't be boring.
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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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Yes I try to kill myself in small amounts, an innocuous occupation. Actually I'm hung up on it.
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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.
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I rot on the wall, my own Dorian Gray.
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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.
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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.
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Love? Be it man. Be it woman. It must be a wave you want to glide in on, give your body to it, give your laugh to it, give, when the gravelly sand takes you, your tears to the land. To love another is something like prayer and can't be planned, you just fall into its arms because your belief undoes your disbelief.
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I was the girl of the chain letter, the girl full of talk of coffins and keyholes, the one of the telephone bills, the wrinkled photo and the lost connections.
Anne Sexton
Be careful of words, / ... they can be both daisies and bruises.
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The place I live in is a kind of maze and I keep seeking the exit or the home.
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