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He was his own leftover, the spat-out scrag. He was what his brain could make nothing of.

Ted Hughes

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Ted Hughes
Age: 68 †
Born: 1930
Born: August 17
Died: 1998
Died: October 28
Astrologer
Author
Novelist
Playwright
Poet
Science Fiction Writer
Translator
Writer
Edward James Hughes
Ted Hughes
Spat
Spats
Brain
Nothing
Make
Leftover

More quotes by Ted Hughes

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The world's decay where the wind's hands have passed, And my head, worn out with love, at rest In my hands, and my hands full of dust.
Ted Hughes
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The Bush administration doesn't particularly like public participation. It makes them look bad.
Ted Hughes
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The Shell The sea fills my ear with sand and with fear. You may wash out the sand, but never the sound of the ghost of the sea that is haunting me.
Ted Hughes
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But who is stronger than death? Me , evidently .
Ted Hughes
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Nobody knew the Iron Man had fallen. Night passed.
Ted Hughes
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The brassy wood-pigeons Bubble their colourful voices, and the sun Rises upon a world well-tried and old.
Ted Hughes
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Applause is the beginning of abuse
Ted Hughes
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Do as you like with me. I'm your parcel. I have only our address on me. Open me, or readdress me.
Ted Hughes
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The inmost spirit of poetry, in other words, is at bottom, in every recorded case, the voice of pain – and the physical body, so to speak, of poetry, is the treatment by which the poet tries to reconcile that pain with the world.
Ted Hughes
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The only calibration that counts is how much heart people invest, how much they ignore their fears of being hurt or caught out or humiliated. And the only thing people regret is that they didn't live boldly enough, that they didn't invest enough heart, didn't love enough. Nothing else really counts at all.
Ted Hughes
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Fishing provides that connection with the whole living world. It gives you the opportunity of being totally immersed, turning back into yourself in a good way. A form of meditation, some form of communion with levels of yourself that are deeper than the ordinary self.
Ted Hughes
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Stilled legendary depth: It was as deep as England. It held Pike too immense to stir, so immense and old That past nightfall I dared not cast.
Ted Hughes
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This house has been far out at sea all night, The woods crashing through darkness, the booming hills, Winds stampeding the fields under the window Floundering black astride and blinding wet Till day rose then under an orange sky The hills had new places, and wind wielded Blade-light, luminous black and emerald, Flexing like the lens of a mad eye.
Ted Hughes
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You are who you choose to be.
Ted Hughes
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Nobody wanted your dance, Nobody wanted your strange glitter, your floundering Drowning life and your effort to save yourself, Treading water, dancing the dark turmoil, Looking for something to give.
Ted Hughes
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The sea cries with its meaningless voice, Treating alike its dead and its living
Ted Hughes
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I shall also take you forth and carve our names together in a yew tree, haloed with stars.
Ted Hughes
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What’s writing really about? It’s about trying to take fuller possession of the reality of your life.
Ted Hughes
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What happened casually remains -
Ted Hughes
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where are the gods the gods hate us the gods have run away the gods have hidden in holes the gods are dead of the plague they rot and stink too there never were any gods there’s only death
Ted Hughes