Quote

It snowed last year too: I made a snowman and my brother knocked it down and I knocked my brother down and then we had tea.

Dylan Thomas

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Dylan Thomas
Age: 39 †
Born: 1914
Born: October 27
Died: 1953
Died: November 9
Author
Novelist
Playwright
Poet
Screenwriter
Writer
Abertawe
Dylan Marlais Thomas
Last
Knocked
Made
Brotherhood
Years
Tea
Christmas
Healing
Snowed
Brother
Snowman
Year
Brotherly
Lasts
Sibling

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He who seeks rest finds boredom. He who seeks work finds rest.
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Poetry is the rhythmic, inevitably narrative, movement from an overclothed blindness to a naked vision that depends in its intensity on the strength of the labour put into the creation of the poetry.
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Do not go gently into that good night but rage, rage against the dying of the light.
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You wouldn't think such a place as San Francisco could exist. The wonderful sunlight there, the hills, the great bridges, the Pacific at your shoes. Beautiful Chinatown. Every race in the world. The sardine fleets sailing out. The little cable-cars whizzing down The City hills. And all the people are open and friendly.
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You just wait. I'll sin 'til I blow up!
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If you want a definition of poetry, say: Poetry is what makes me laugh or cry or yawn, what makes my toenails twinkle, what makes me want to do this or that or nothing and let it go at that.
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Especially when the October wind With frosty fingers punishes my hair, Caught by the crabbing sun I walk on fire And cast a shadow crab upon the land, By the sea's side, hearing the noise of birds, Hearing the raven cough in winter sticks, My busy heart who shudders as she talks Sheds the syllabic blood and drains her words.
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Reading one's own poems aloud is letting the cat out of the bag. You may have always suspected bits of a poem to be overweighted, overviolent, or daft, and then, suddenly, with the poet's tongue around them, your suspicion is made certain.
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I sang in my chains like the sea
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I have just had eighteen whiskeys in a row. I do believe that is a record.
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Beginning with doom in the bulb, the spring unravels.
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Hands have not tears to flow.
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I used to think that once a writer became a man of letters, if only for a half hour, he was done for. And here I am now, at the very moment of such an odious, though respectable, danger.
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Though lovers be lost love shall not.
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This poem has been called obscure. I refuse to believe that it is obscurer than pity, violence, or suffering. But being a poem, not a lifetime, it is more compressed.
Dylan Thomas
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I think, that if I touched the earth, It would crumble It is so sad and beautiful, So tremulously like a dream.
Dylan Thomas
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After the first death, there is no other.
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Man’s wants remain unsatisfied till death. Then, when his soul is naked, is he one With the man in the wind, and the west moon, With the harmonious thunder of the sun
Dylan Thomas
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And time cast forth my mortal creature To drift or drown upon the seas Acquainted with the salt adventure Of tides that never touch the shores. - I who was rich was made the richer By sipping at the the vine of days.
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... Rebel against the flesh and bone, The word of the blood, the wily skin, And the maggot no man can slay.
Dylan Thomas