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Beginning with doom in the bulb, the spring unravels.
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
Unravels
Bulb
Bulbs
Doom
Spring
Beginning
More quotes by 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
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
In the beginning was the word, the word That from the solid bases of the light Abstracted all the letters of the void.
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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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Out of the sighs a little comes, But not of grief, for I have knocked down that Before the agony the spirit grows, Forgets, and cries A little comes, is tasted and found good.
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Seventeen whiskeys. A record, I think.
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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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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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Though they go mad they shall be sane, though they sink through the sea they shall rise again though lovers be lost love shall not and death shall have no dominion.
Dylan Thomas
And I rose In rainy autumn And walked abroad in a shower of all my days.
Dylan Thomas
Hands have not tears to flow.
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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.
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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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Washington isn't a city, it's an abstraction.
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I sang in my chains like the sea
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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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The closer I move To death, one man through his sundered hulks, The louder the sun blooms And the tusked, ramshackling sea exults.
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My education was the liberty I had to read indiscriminately and all the time, with my eyes hanging out.
Dylan Thomas
I think, that if I touched the earth, It would crumble It is so sad and beautiful, So tremulously like a dream.
Dylan Thomas
Life always offers you a second chance. is called tomorrow.
Dylan Thomas