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you see, we live in a cold climate and are not permitted to kiss on the street so I made up a song that wasn't true. I made up a song called Marriage.

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
Live
Climate
Made
Streets
Marriage
Cold
Wasn
Permitted
Called
Kiss
Song
Kissing
True
Street

More quotes by Anne Sexton

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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.
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God has a brown voice, as soft and full as beer.
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I am crazy as hell, but I know it. And knowing it is a kind of sanity that makes the sickness worse.
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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 wonder if the artist ever lives his life--he is so busy recreating it.
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I am not at home in myself. I am my own stranger.
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Of course the New Testament is very small. Its mouth opens four times as out-of-date as a prehistoric monster, yet somehow man-made.
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Depression is boring, I think and I would do better to make some soup and light up the cave.
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I have been cut in two.
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If you meet a cross-eyed person you must plunge into the grass, alongside the chilly ants, fish through the green fingernails and come up with the four-leaf clover.
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The family story tells, and it was told true, of my great-grandfather who begat eight genius children and bought twelve almost new grand pianos. He left a considerable estate when he died.
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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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The beautiful feeling after writing a poem is on the whole better even than after sex, and that's saying a lot.
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The day of fire is coming, the thrush will fly ablaze like a little sky rocket.
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And we are magic talking to itself, noisy and alone. I am queen of all my sins forgotten. Am I still lost? Once I was beautiful. Now I am myself
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It doesn't matter who my father was it matters who I remember he was.
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We talked death with burned-up intensity, both of us drawn to it like moths to an electric light bulb. Sucking on it!
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In a letter (no matter how quickly it is written or honestly or freely or lovingly) it is more possible to be loving and lovable, more possible to reach out and to take in ... I feel I have somehow deceived you into thinking this is really a human relationship. It is a letter relationship between humans.
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I am out of practice at living. You are as brave as a motorcycle.
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I, in my brand new body, which was not a woman's yet, told the stars my questions and thought God could really see the heat and the painted light, elbows, knees, dreams, goodnight.
Anne Sexton