my poems covered the bare places in my childhood like the fine, new skin under a scab that hasn't yet fallen off completely. — Tove Ditlevsen Copy Share Image
Childhood is long and narrow like a coffin, and you can't get out of it on your own. — Tove Ditlevsen Copy Share
I fear / the place I have / in the memory of others. / They remind me of things / I myself have forgot. — Tove Ditlevsen Copy Share
my childhood grew thin and flat, paperlike. It was tired and threadbare, and in low moments it didn't look like it would last until… — Tove Ditlevsen Copy Share
my poems covered the bare places in my childhood like the fine, new skin under a scab that hasn't yet fallen off completely. — Tove Ditlevsen Copy Share
Memory, that library of the soul from which I will draw knowledge and experience for the rest of my life. — Tove Ditlevsen Copy Share
[On her mother:] My relationship with her is close, painful, and skaky, and I always have to keep searching for a sign of love.… — Tove Ditlevsen Copy Share
