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The force that through the green fuse drives the flower Drives my green age that blasts the roots of trees Is my destroyer. And I am dumb to tell the crooked rose My youth is bend by the same wintry fever.
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
Force
Roots
Bend
Tell
Green
Crooked
Life
Flower
Blast
Wintry
Birth
Fever
Blasts
Youth
Drives
Destroyer
Growth
Dumb
Fuse
Tree
Trees
Destroyers
Age
Rose
Rebirth
More quotes by Dylan Thomas
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
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Hands have not tears to flow.
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The only sea I saw Was the seesaw sea With you riding on it. Lie down, lie easy. Let me shipwreck in your thighs.
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Families, like countries, take their prophets unkindly, but a verse-speaker in the house is dishonor to be hooted.
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... an ugly, lovely town ... crawling, sprawling ... by the side of a long and splendid curving shore. This sea-town was my world.
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A springful of larks in a rolling Cloud and the roadside bushes brimming with whistling Blackbirds and the sun of October Summery On the hill's shoulder.
Dylan Thomas
And from the first declension of the flesh I learnt man's tongue, to twist the shapes of thoughts Into the stony idiom of the brain.
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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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Oh, isn't life a terrible thing, thank God?
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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.
Dylan Thomas
A truly comic, invented world must live at the same time as the world we live in.
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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.
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After the first death, there is no other.
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And I rose In rainy autumn And walked abroad in a shower of all my days.
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A good poem is a contribution to reality.
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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.
Dylan Thomas
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.
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I have just had eighteen whiskeys in a row. I do believe that is a record.
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When logics die, The secret of the soil grows through the eye, And blood jumps in the sun Above the waste allotments the dawn halts.
Dylan Thomas
Beginning with doom in the bulb, the spring unravels.
Dylan Thomas