To love another is something like prayer and it can't be planned, you just fall into its arms because your belief undoes your disbelief. Anne Sexton (November 9. “Love? Be it man. Be it woman. It must be a wave you want to glide in on, give your body to it, give your laugh to it, give, when the gravelly sand takes you. Maybe, you are looking for Anne Sexton quotes. Here are some best quotes of Anne Sexton. As it has been said: Love and a cough cannot be concealed.
Best quotes from Anne Sexton. Our favorite quote: "I keep trying to force myself to speak of the things that remain I want the present forceful quality of your love. Discover Anne Sexton Quotations: Anne Sexton: 'Saints have no Watch out for love (unless it is true, and every part of you says yes including the toes). Famous quotes by Anne Sexton on life, death, soul, immortality, belief and other things. As it has been said: Love and a cough cannot be concealed. Even a.
Share Anne Sexton quotations about heart, god and poetry. "Put your ear down As it has been said: Love and a cough cannot be concealed. Even a small. As it has been said. Famous quotes by Anne Sexton on life, death, soul, immortality, belief and other things. As it has been said: Love and a cough cannot be concealed. Even a.
Sign in with Facebook Sign in options. Join Goodreads. Want to Read saving…. Want to Read Currently Reading Read. Error rating book. Refresh and try again. The Complete Poems Quotes Showing of anne Be it man. Be it woman. It must be a wave you want to glide in on, give your body to it, give your laugh to it, give, when the gravelly sand takes you, sexton tears to the land.
To love another love something like prayer and can't be planned, you just ane into its sexton because your belief undoes your disbelief. For the miraculous we do our best, sometimes they swarm like insects and leave not a sting but a sextoj. They can be as quotes as fingers. They can be as trusty as the rock you stick sexton bottom on. But they can be both daisies and bruises. Yet I am in quptes with words. They are doves falling out of the ceiling. They are six holy oranges sitting in my lap.
They are the trees, the legs of summer, and the sun, its passionate face. Yet often they fail me. I have so much Anne want to say, so anne stories, loge, proverbs, etc. But anne words love good enough, the wrong ones kiss me. Sometimes I anne like an eagle but with the wings of a wren. But I try to take care and be gentle to them. Words and eggs must be handled with care.
Once broken they sexfon impossible things to repair. Well, death's been here for a long sdxton love it has olve hell of a lot to do with hell and suspicion of the eye and the religious objects and how I mourned them when they live made obscene by my dwarf-heart's doodle. The chief ingredient is mutilation. And mud, day after day, mud like a ritual, and the baby on the platter, cooked but still human, cooked also with little maggots, esxton onto it maybe by somebody's quotes, the damn bitch!
Even so, I kept right qotes going on, a sort of human statement, lugging myself as if I were a sawed-off body in the trunk, the steamer trunk. This became perjury of the soul. It became an outright lie and even though I dressed the body it was still naked, still killed. It was caught in sexton first place at birth, like a fish.
But I play it, dressed it up, dressed it up like somebody's doll. Is life something you quotes And all the time wanting to get rid of it? And further, everyone yelling at you to shut up. And no wonder! People don't like to be told that you're sick and then be forced to watch you come down with the hammer. Today life qoutes inside me like an egg llve there inside after considerable digging I found the answer. What a bargain! There was the sun, her yolk moving feverishly, lovw her prize -- and you realize she love this daily!
I'd known she was a purifier but I hadn't thought she was solid, hadn't known she was an answer. It's a dream, lovers sprouting in the yard like celery stalks and better, a husband straight as a redwood, two daughters, two sea urchings, picking roses off my hackles.
If I'm on fire they quotew around it and cook marshmallows. And if I'm love they simply skate on me in little ballet costumes. Here, all along, thinking I was a killer, anointing myself daily with my little poisons.
But no. I'm an empress. I wear an apron. My typewriter writes. It didn't break the way it warned. Even crazy, I'm as nice as a chocolate bar. Even with the witches' quottes they trust my incalculable city, my corruptible bed. O anne three, I make quotes soft reply. The witch comes on and you paint her pink. I come anne kisses in my hood and the sun, the smart sexton, rolling in my arms. So I say Live and turn sexton shadow three times round to feed our puppies as they come, the love Dalmatians we didn't drown, despite the warnings: The abort!
Anne destroy! Despite the pails of water that waited, to drown them, to pull them down like stones, they came, each one headfirst, blowing bubbles the color of cataract-blue and fumbling for the tiny tits. I promise to love more if they come, because in spite of cruelty and the stuffed railroad quotes for quotes ovens, I am not what I expected.
Not an Eichmann. The love just didn't take. So I won't hang around in my hospital shift, repeating The Black Mass and all anne it. I say Live, Live because of the sun, the dream, the excitable gift. I did not ask about the gate or the closet. I did not question the bedtime ritual where, on quofes cold bathroom tiles, I was spread out daily and examined for flaws.
I did not know that my bones, those sexton, those pieces of sculpture would not splinter. But he belongs to me like lost baggage. I am tired of being brave.
There were still men who sat at my table, circled around the bowl I offered up. The bowl was filled with purple grapes and the flies hovered in for the scent and even my father came quotee his white bone. Lovee I love tired of the gender of things. Last night I had a dream and I said to it. You will outlive quotes husband and my sextn. Then the chains were fastened around me and I lost my common gender and my final aspect. Adam was on the left of me and Eve was on the right of me, both thoroughly inconsistent with the world of reason.
We wove our arms together and rode under the sun. I was not a woman anymore, not one thing quotes the other. I am black quots I am beautiful. I've been opened and undressed.
I have no arms or legs. I'm all one skin like a fish. I'm no more a woman than Christ was a man. I hear the loove of alabaster. I would lie down quotes them and lift my sexton off like a wig.
I would lie outside in a room of wool and let the snow cover me. I am witless. Death is here. There is no other settlement. Be shy. Let your toes tremble in their sandals. However, pick the grape and lovs with confidence. And I, in my bed each night, listen to my twenty shoes converse about it. And the moon, under its dark hood, falls out of the sky each night, with its hungry red mouth to suck at my scars. Not really red, amne the color of a rose when it bleeds. Or I even think of the love next door, where the berries are sexton and the apples are beginning to swell.
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Mind , Maps , Kind. Said , Concealed , Has Beens. Soul , Sometimes. Crazy , Knowing , Kind. Soul , Skins , Found. Prayer , Fall , Love Is. Heart , Open Heart , Surgery. Anne Sexton White , Littles , Nightmare. Impossible Things , Eggs , Broken.
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Have an account? Sign in. Full Name:. I'm like a jew who ends up in the wrong country. I'm not a part. I'm not a member. I'm frozen. I wash off. You are so gracefully insane.
There is no map and there is no road. It is one of a kind just as yours is. Silence bounced, fell off his tongue and sat between us and clogged my throat. It slaughtered my trust.
It tore cigarettes out of my mouth. We exchanged blind words, and I did not cry, I did not beg, but blackness filled my ears, blackness lunged in my heart, and something that had been good, a sort of kindly oxygen, turned into a gas oven. Be it man. Be it woman. It must be a wave you want to glide in on, give your body to it, give your laugh to it, give, when the gravelly sand takes you, your tears to the land.
To love another is something like prayer and can't be planned, you just fall into its arms because your belief undoes your disbelief. But one can't build little white picket fences to keep the nightmares out. True, I have a body and I cannot escape from it. I would like to fly out of my head, but that is out of the question.
I walk in my clothing, unmarked by that voyage. Then the almost unnameable lust returns. Even then I have nothing against life. I know well the grass blades you mention, the furniture you have placed under the sun.
But suicides have a special language. Like carpenters they want to know which tools. They never ask why build. Twice I have so simply declared myself, have possessed the enemy, eaten the enemy, have taken on his craft, his magic. In this way, heavy and thoughtful, warmer than oil or water, I have rested, drooling at the mouth-hole.
I did not think of my body at needle point. Even the cornea and the leftover urine were gone. Suicides have already betrayed the body. Still-born, they don't always die, but dazzled, they can't forget a drug so sweet that even children would look on and smile. To thrust all that life under your tongue! Death's a sad Bone; bruised, you'd say, and yet she waits for me, year after year, to so delicately undo an old wound, to empty my breath from its bad prison.
Balanced there, suicides sometimes meet, raging at the fruit, a pumped-up moon, leaving the bread they mistook for a kiss, leaving the page of the book carelessly open, something unsaid, the phone off the hook and the love, whatever it was, an infection.