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This world is half the devil's and my own, Daft with the drug that's smoking in a girl and curling round the bud that forks her eye.
Dylan Thomas
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Dylan Thomas
Age: 39 †
Born: 1914
Born: October 27
Died: 1953
Died: November 9
Author
Novelist
Playwright
Poet
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Writer
Abertawe
Dylan Marlais Thomas
Round
Rounds
Devil
Drug
Curling
Half
Daft
Bud
Eye
Forks
Girl
Smoking
World
More quotes by Dylan Thomas
Washington isn't a city, it's an abstraction.
Dylan Thomas
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.
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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.
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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
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
Dark is a way and light is a place, Heaven that never was Nor will be ever is always true Poem on His Birthday
Dylan Thomas
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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Whatever talents I possess may suddenly diminish or suddenly increase. I can with ease become an ordinary fool. I may be one now. But it doesn't do to upset one's own vanity.
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To begin at the beginning: It is a spring moonless night in the small town, starless and bible-black.
Dylan Thomas
Beginning with doom in the bulb, the spring unravels.
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Oh, isn't life a terrible thing, thank God?
Dylan Thomas
I have just had eighteen whiskeys in a row. I do believe that is a record.
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Somebody's boring me. I think it's me.
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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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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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... Rebel against the flesh and bone, The word of the blood, the wily skin, And the maggot no man can slay.
Dylan Thomas
Life always offers you a second chance. is called tomorrow.
Dylan Thomas
Let the dry eyes perceive Others betray the lamenting lies of their losses By the curve of the nude mouth or the laugh up the sleeve.
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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.
Dylan Thomas
The only sea I saw Was the seesaw sea With you riding on it. Lie down, lie easy. Let me shipwreck in your thighs.
Dylan Thomas