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Inside many of us is a small old man who wants to get out.

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
Inside
Wants
Small
Age
Many
Men

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Now, in my middle age, about nineteen in the head I'd say, I am rowing, I am rowing.
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The windows, the starving windows that drive the trees like nails into my heart.
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A woman who writes feels too much.
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I am in my own mind. I am locked in the wrong house.
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I imitatea memory of beliefthat I do not own.
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I burn the way money burns.
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I’m lost. And it’s my own fault. It’s about time I figured out that I can’t ask people to keep me found.
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I try to take care and be gentle to them. Words and eggs must be handled with care. Once broken they are impossible things to repair.
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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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I am alone here in my own mind. There is no map and there is no road. It is one of a kind just as yours is.
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When I lie down to love, old dwarf heart shakes her head. Like an imbecile she was born old.
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Poetry to me is prayer.
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Even without wars, life is dangerous.
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the heart, this child of myself that resides in the flesh, this ultimate signature of the me, the start of my blindness and sleep, builds a death crèche.
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I am out of practice at living. You are as brave as a motorcycle.
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the marriage twists, holds firm, a sailor's knot.
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Maybe, although my heart is a kitten of butter, I am blowing it up like a zeppelin.
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I am a collection of dismantled almosts.
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Psychiatry is a dirty mirror.
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To love another is somethinglike prayer and it can't be planned, you just fallinto its arms because your belief undoes your disbelief.
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