Dylan Thomas Quotes
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Whatever talents I possess may suddenly diminish or suddenly increase. I can with ease become an ordinary fool. I may be one now. But it doesn't do to upset one's own vanity.
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An alcoholic is someone you don't like who drinks as much as you do.
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The first poems I knew were nursery rhymes, and before I could read them for myself, I had come to love just the words of them, the words alone.
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The land of my fathers. My fathers can have it.
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And the sabbath rang slowly In the pebbles of the holy streams.
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Don't be too harsh to these poems until they're typed. I always think typescript lends some sort of certainty: at least, if the things are bad then, they appear to be bad with conviction.
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I went on all over the States, ranting poems to enthusiastic audiences that, the week before, had been equally enthusiastic about lectures on Railway Development or the Modern Turkish Essay.
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Great is the hand that holds dominion over man by a scribbled name.
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No honest writer today can possibly avoid being influenced by Freud through his pioneering work into the Unconscious and by the influence of those discoveries on the scientific, philosophic, and artistic work of his contemporaries: but not, by any means, necessarily through Freud's own writing.
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As I read more and more - and it was not all verse, by any means - my love for the real life of words increased until I knew that I must live with them and in them, always. I knew, in fact, that I must be a writer of words, and nothing else.
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Go on thinking that you don't need to be read and you'll find that it may become quite true: no one will feel the need tom read it because it is written for yourself alone; and the public won't feel any impulse to gate crash such a private party.
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Every device there is in language is there to be used, if you will. Poets have got to enjoy themselves sometimes, and the twistings and convolutions of words, the inventions and contrivances, are all part of the joy that is part of the painful, voluntary work.
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Time held me green and dying Though I sang in my chains like the sea.
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Though lovers be lost, love shall not.
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Somebody's boring me. I think it's me.
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Do not go gentle into that good night but rage, rage against the dying of the light.
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My education was the liberty I had to read indiscriminately and all the time, with my eyes hanging out.
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One Christmas was so much like another, in those years around the sea-town corner now, out of all sound except the distant speaking of the voices I sometimes hear a moment before sleep, that I can never remember whether it snowed for six days and six nights when I was twelve or whether it snowed for twelve days and twelve nights when I was six.
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When all my five and country senses see, The fingers will forget green thumbs and mark How, through the halfmoon's vegetable eye, Husk of young stars and handfull zodiac, Love in the frost is pared and wintered by.
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He who seeks rest finds boredom. He who seeks work finds rest.
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I have never sat down and studied the Bible, never consciously echoed its language, and am, in reality, as ignorant of it as most brought-up Christians. All of the Bible that I use in my work is remembered from childhood and is the common property of all who were brought up in English-speaking communities.
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After the first death, there is no other.
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And I saw in the turning so clearly a child's Forgotten mornings when he walked with his motherThrough the parables Of sunlight And the legends of the green chapels.
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Light breaks on secret lots, On tips of thought where thoughts smell in the rain; When logics die, The secret of the soil grows through the eye, And blood jumps in the sun; Above the waste allotments the dawn halts.