Anne Sexton

Even without wars, life is dangerous.

— Anne Sexton

Mood can be as important as sense.

— Anne Sexton

As for me, I am a watercolor. I wash off.

— Anne Sexton

It would be pleasant to be drunk.

— Anne Sexton

We are all writing God's poem.

— Anne Sexton

sorrow is easier than guilt.

— Anne Sexton

God owns heaven but He craves the earth.

— Anne Sexton

My mother was top billing in our house.

— Anne Sexton

Take your foot out of the graveyard, they are busy being dead.

— Anne Sexton

Fear / a motor, / pumps me around and around / until I fade slowly.

— Anne Sexton

O yellow eye, let me be sick with your heat, let me be feverish and frowning.

— Anne Sexton

It doesn't matter who my father was; it matters who I remember he was.

— Anne Sexton

Inside many of us is a small old man who wants to get out.

— Anne Sexton

I would like to bury all the hating eyes under the sand somewhere.

— Anne Sexton

the marriage twists, holds firm, a sailor's knot.

— Anne Sexton

I imitatea memory of beliefthat I do not own.

— Anne Sexton

I will be steel! I will build a steel bridge over my need! I will build a bomb shelter over my heart!…

— Anne Sexton

My death from the wrists, two name tags, blood worn like a corsage to bloom one on the left and one on…

— Anne Sexton

“God shined his laughter down upon us like a giant heat lamp and therefore we did not cringe at the death hole”

— Anne Sexton

Then God spoke to me and said: People say only good things about Christmas. If they want to say something bad, they…

— Anne Sexton

Home is my Bethlehem, my succoring shelter, my mental hospital, my wife, my dam, my husband, my sir, my womb, my skull.

— Anne Sexton

It's a little mad, but I believe I am many people. When I am writing a poem, I feel I am the…

— Anne Sexton

I want to kiss God on His nose and watch Him sneeze and so do you. Not out of disrespect. Out of…

— Anne Sexton

the heart, this child of myself that resides in the flesh, this ultimate signature of the me, the start of my blindness…

— Anne Sexton

Cinderella and the prince lived, they say, happily ever after, like two dolls in a museum case never bothered by diapers or…

— Anne Sexton

These poets (fans of whatever) should be contacting other young poets on their way - not those who have made it, who…

— Anne Sexton

When someone kisses someone or flushes the toilet it is my other who sits in a ball and cries. My other beats…

— Anne Sexton

I have forgiven all the old actors for dying. A new one comes on with the same lines, like large white growths,…

— Anne Sexton

I am younger each year at the first snow. When I see it, suddenly, in the air, all little and white and…

— Anne Sexton

I sit at my desk each night with no place to go, opening the wrinkled maps of Milwaukee and Buffalo, the whole…

— Anne Sexton

And within the house ashes are being stuffed into my marriage, fury is lapping the walls, dishes crack on the shelves, a…

— Anne Sexton

I lay there silently, hoarding my small dignity. I did not ask about the gate or the closet. I did not question…

— Anne Sexton

“Despair Who is he? A railroad track toward hell? Breaking like a stick of furniture? The hope that suddenly overflows the cesspool?…

— Anne Sexton

“Live or die, but don't poison everything... Well, death's been here for a long time -- it has a hell of a…

— Anne Sexton

“From the Garden” Come, my beloved, consider the lilies. We are of little faith. We talk too much. Put your mouthful of…

— Anne Sexton

“ Keeping The City "Unless the Lord keepeth the city, the watchman guardeth in vain" - John F. Kennedy's unspoken words in…

— Anne Sexton

“You, Doctor Martin, walk from breakfast to madness. Late August, I speed through the antiseptic tunnel where the moving dead still talk…

— Anne Sexton

“I wear silk -- the cover to uncover -- because silk is what I want you to think of. But I dislike…

— Anne Sexton

“Going Gone Over stone walls and barns, miles from the black-eyed Susans, over circus tents and moon rockets you are going, going.…

— Anne Sexton

“and God was there like an island I had not rowed to, still ignorant of Him, my arms, and my legs worked,…

— Anne Sexton