Quote

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.

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
Lies
Losses
Loss
Curves
Laughing
Betray
Lamenting
Eyes
Dry
Sleeve
Lying
Perceive
Eye
Mouth
Nude
Others
Mouths
Curve
Laugh
Sleeves

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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.
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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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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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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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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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Washington isn't a city, it's an abstraction.
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And death shall have no dominion. Under the windings of the sea They lying long shall not die windily Twisting on racks when sinews give way, Strapped to a wheel, yet they shall not break Faith in their hands shall snap in two, And the unicorn evils run them through Split all ends up they shan't crack And death shall have no dominion.
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Youth calls to age across the tired years: 'What have you found,' he cries, 'what have you sought? 'What have you found,' age answers through his tears, 'What have you sought.
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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.
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The photograph is married to the eye, Grafts on its bride one-sided skins of truth.
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I have just had eighteen whiskeys in a row. I do believe that is a record.
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Rage, rage against the dying light
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My education was the liberty I had to read indiscriminately and all the time, with my eyes hanging out.
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Too many of the artists of Wales spend too much time talking about the position of theartists of Wales.There is only one position for an artist anywhere: and that is, upright.
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You just wait. I'll sin 'til I blow up!
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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.
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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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Somebody's boring me. I think it's me.
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Beginning with doom in the bulb, the spring unravels.
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Life always offers you a second chance. is called tomorrow.
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