No. Not really red, but the color of a rose when it bleeds.

— Anne Sexton

Only my books anoint me, and a few friends, those who reach into my veins.

— Anne Sexton

Pain engraves a deeper memory.

— Anne Sexton

Poetry led me by the hand out of madness.

— Anne Sexton

Put your ear down close to your soul and listen hard.

— Anne Sexton

Put your mouthful of words away and come with me to watch the lilies open in such a field, growing there like yachts, slowly steering their petals without nurses or clocks.

— Anne Sexton

Quite collected at cocktail parties, meanwhile in my head'm undergoing open-heart surgery.

— Anne Sexton

Saints have no moderation, nor do poets, just exuberance.

— Anne Sexton

Sometimes the soul takes pictures of things it has wished for, but never seen.

— Anne Sexton

Some women marry houses.

— Anne Sexton