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- Anne Sexton
Anne Sexton Quotes
|Birthday:||November 9, 1928|
|Death:||October 4, 1974|
|Educated At:||Boston University|
|Manner of Death:||Suicide|
|Nationality:||American, United States Of America|
|Occupations:||Poet, Children's Writer, Writer|
Birthday: November 9, 1928
Death: October 4, 1974
Educated At: Boston University
Manner of Death: Suicide
Nationality: American, United States Of America
Occupations: Poet, Children's Writer, Writer
You are so gracefully insane.”
Love and a cough
cannot be concealed.
Even a small cough.
Even a small love.”
Fireworks in the dull middle of February
and as real as a cast-iron pot.”
like prayer and can’t be planned, you just fall.”
She is the sum of yourself and your dream.”
meanwhile in my head
I'm undergoing open-heart surgery.”
I wash off.”
your tongue half chocolate, half ocean,
of the houses that you swing into,
of the steel wool hair on your head,
of your persistent hands and then
how we gnaw at the barrier because we are two.”
It must be a wave you want to glide in on,
give your body to it, give your laugh to it,
give, when the gravelly sand takes you,
your tears to the land. To love another is something like prayer and can't be planned, you just fall into its arms because your belief undoes your disbelief.”
haunting the black air, braver at night;
dreaming evil, I have done my hitch
over the plain houses, light by light:
lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind.
A woman like that is not a woman, quite.
I have been her kind.
I have found the warm caves in the woods,
filled them with skillets, carvings, shelves,
closets, silks, innumerable goods;
fixed the suppers for the worms and the elves:
whining, rearranging the disaligned.
A woman like that is misunderstood.
I have been her kind.
I have ridden in your cart, driver,
waved my nude arms at villages going by,
learning the last bright routes, survivor
where your flames still bite my thigh
and my ribs crack where your wheels wind.
A woman like that is not ashamed to die.
I have been her kind.”
Silence bounced, fell off his tongue
and sat between us
and clogged my throat.
It slaughtered my trust.
It tore cigarettes out of my mouth.
We exchanged blind words,
and I did not cry,
I did not beg,
but blackness filled my ears,
blackness lunged in my heart,
and something that had been good,
a sort of kindly oxygen,
turned into a gas oven.”