Dark is a way and light is a place, Heaven that never was Nor will be ever is always true "Poem on… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
These poems, with all their crudities, doubts, and confusions, are written for the love of Man and in praise of God, and… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
Every device there is in language is there to be used, if you will. Poets have got to enjoy themselves sometimes, and… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
The first poems I knew were nursery rhymes, and before I could read them for myself, I had come to love just… — 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
I went on all over the States, ranting poems to enthusiastic audiences that, the week before, had been equally enthusiastic about lectures… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
“On No Work of Words On no work of words now for three lean months in the bloody Belly of the rich… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
“Time held me green and dying Though I sang in my chains like the sea.” — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
I like to think of poetry as statements made on the way to the grave. — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
“Poem in October" It was my thirtieth year to heaven Woke to my hearing from harbour and neighbour wood And the mussel… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
Don't be too harsh to these poems until they're typed. I always think typescript lends some sort of certainty: at least, if… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
This poem has been called obscure. I refuse to believe that it is obscurer than pity, violence, or suffering. But being a… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
I do not remember-that is the point-the first impulse that pumped and shoved most of the earlier poems along, and they are… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
“Good and bad, two ways Of moving about your death By the grinding sea, King of your heart in the blind days,… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
Poetry is the rhythmic, inevitably narrative, movement from an overclothed blindness to a naked vision that depends in its intensity on the… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
“ Q: As a poet what distinguishes you, do you think, from an ordinary man? A: Only the use of the medium… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
Reading one's own poems aloud is letting the cat out of the bag. You may have always suspected bits of a poem… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
As I read more and more - and it was not all verse, by any means - my love for the real… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
The best craftsmanship always leaves holes and gaps... so that something that is not in the poem can creep, crawl, flash or… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
A good poem is a contribution to reality. The world is never the same once a good poem has been added to… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
“Some people react physically to the magic of poetry, to the moments, that is, of authentic revelation, of the communication, the sharing… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
The best poem is that whose worked-upon unmagical passages come closest, in texture and intensity, to those moments of magical accident. — 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
