A happy birthdaythis evening, I sat by an open windowand read till the light was gone and the bookwas no more than a part of the darkness. I could easily have switched on a lamp, but I wanted to ride the day down into night, to sit alone, and smooth the unreadable pagewith the pale gray ghost of my hand Ted Kooser
About This Quote

The poet, Anne Sexton, wrote about sitting by an open window and reading her book until the light was gone. Back then, she didn’t have a light switch in her room. Instead, she used a candle to illuminate her way as she read. She wanted to ride the day down into night.

To sit alone and read with the pale gray ghost of her hand. Today, we may not have to use so many candles to read our books or write our poems, but it takes courage to sit alone and read our books with the pale gray ghost of our hands. We should all be proud of ourselves for continuing to read these times when it feels like there is no one else around us.

Some Similar Quotes
  1. I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you,... - Pablo Neruda
  2. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul. - Pablo Neruda
  3. We love the things we love for what they are. - Robert Frost
  4. I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart) I am never without it (anywhereI go you go, my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling) I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my... - E.e. Cummings
  5. Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back. Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes a poet. - Plato
More Quotes By Ted Kooser
  1. Valentine's Day is the poet's holiday.
  2. When she left me I stood out in the thunderstorm, hoping to be destroyed by lightning. It missed, first left, then right.
  3. A happy birthdaythis evening, I sat by an open windowand read till the light was gone and the bookwas no more than a part of the darkness. I could easily have switched on a lamp, but I wanted to ride the day down into night,...
  4. MOTHER — By Ted KooserMid April already, and the wild plumsbloom at the roadside, a lacy whiteagainst the exuberant, jubilant greenof new grass and the dusty, fading black of burned-out ditches. No leaves, not yet, only the delicate, star-petaledblossoms, sweet with their timeless perfume. You...
  5. Mother (fragment)...You asked me if I would be sad when it happenedand I am sad. But the iris I moved from your housenow hold in the dusty dry fists of their rootsgreen knives and forks as if waiting for dinner, as if spring were a...
Related Topics