And death shall have no dominion. Under the windings of the sea They lying long shall not die windily; Twisting on racks… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
The only sea I saw Was the seesaw sea With you riding on it. Lie down, lie easy. Let me shipwreck in… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
Poetry is not the most important thing in life... I'd much rather lie in a hot bath reading Agatha Christie and sucking… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
Let the dry eyes perceive Others betray the lamenting lies of their losses By the curve of the nude mouth or the… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
In my craft or sullen art Exercised in the still night When only the moon rages And the lovers lie abed With… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
Friend, my enemy, I call you out. You, you, you there with a bad thorn in your side. You there, my friend,… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
I liked the taste of beer, its live, white lather, its brass-bright depths, the sudden world through the wet-brown walls of the glass, the… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
There is only one position for an artist anywhere; and that is upright. — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
“Thousands of miles,' I said. It's Rhosilli, USA. We're going to camp on a bit of rock that wobbles in the winds.” — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
One Christmas was so much like another, in those years around the sea-town corner now and out of all sound except the distant speaking… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
I hold a beast, an angel, and a madman in me, and my enquiry is as to their working, and my problem is their… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
Youth calls to age across the tired years: 'What have you found,' he cries, 'what have you sought?" 'What have you found,' age answers… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
Do not go gentle into that goodnight, rage, rage against the dying of the light. — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
A born writer is born scrofulous; his career is an accident dictated by physical or circumstantial disabilities. — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
Rhianon, he said, hold my hand, Rhianon. She did not hear him, but stood over his bed and fixed him with an unbroken sorrow.… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
I know in London a Welsh hairdresser who has striven so vehemently to abolish his accent that he sounds like a man speaking with… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
Dark is a way and light is a place, Heaven that never was Nor will be ever is always true "Poem on His Birthday — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
