Quote

Oh sharp diamond, my mother! I could not count the cost of all your faces, your moods that present that I lost. Sweet girl, my deathbed, my jewel-fingered lady...

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
Cost
Jewel
Sweet
Moods
Present
Jewels
Faces
Sharp
Girl
Diamond
Lost
Lady
Mother
Count
Fingered
Mood
Deathbed

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Every time I get happy the Nana-hex comes through. Birds turn into plumber's tools, a sonnet turns into a dirty joke, a wind turns into a tracheotomy, a boat turns into a corpse.
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I am your dwarf. I am the enemy within. I am the boss of your dreams. See. Your hand shakes. It is not palsy or booze. It is your Doppelganger trying to get out. Beware...Beware...
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To tell the truth days are all the same size and words aren't much company.
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Dead drunk is the term I think of, insensible, neither cool nor warm, without a head or a foot. To be drunk is to be intimate with a fool.
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Mood can be as important as sense.
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And the aura of you remains, remains, remains...
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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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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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Yesterday I did not want to be borrowed but this is the typewriter that sits before me and love is where yesterday is at.
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Rats live on no evil star
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Let God be some tribal female who is known but forbidden.
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It doesn't matter who my father was it matters who I remember he was.
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... and my love stays bitterly glowing, spasms of it will not sleep, and I am helpless and thirsty and need shade but there is no one to cover me- not even God.
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It is in the small things we see it. The child's first step, as awesome as an earthquake. The first time you rode a bike, wallowing up the sidewalk.
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And if I tried to give you something else, something outside myself, you would not know that the worst of anyone can be, finally, an accident of hope
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Oh, darling, let your body in, let it tie you in, in comfort.
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There is hope. There is hope everywhere. Today God give milk and I have the pail.
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It is a dead heart. It is inside of me. It is a stranger yet once it was agreeable, opening and closing like a clam.
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... man is eating the earth up like a candy bar.
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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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