One Christmas was so much like another, in those years around the sea-town corner now and out of all sound except the… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
Do not go gentle into the good night. Old age should burn and rage at close of day. — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
It is spring, moonless night in the small town, starless and bible-black, the cobbledstreets silent and the hunched courters'-and-rabbits' wood limping invisible… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
And on seesaw Sunday nights, I'd woo who ever I would with my wicked eye! — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
Do not go gentle into that good night but rage, rage against the dying of the light. — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
To begin at the beginning: It is a spring moonless night in the small town, starless and bible-black. — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
I learnt the verbs of will, and had my secret; The code of night tapped on my tongue; What had been one… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
Do not go gently into that good night but rage, rage against the dying of the light. — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Do not… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
This bread I break was once the oat, This wine upon a foreign tree Plunged in its fruit; Man in the day… — 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
Years and years ago, when I was a boy, when there were wolves in Wales, and birds the color of red-flannel petticoats… — 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
