Dylan Thomas quotes

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The land of my fathers. My fathers can have it.
Morning smack of the spade that wakes up sleep,
Shakes a desolate boy who slits his throat
...
In a room with a stuffed fox and a stale fern,
In a fiercely mourning house in a crooked year.
Her fist of a face died clenched on a round pain;
And sculptured Ann is seventy years of stone.
...
After the funeral, mule praises, brays,
Who then is she,
She holding me? The people's sea drives on her,
...
Never be lucid, never state,
If you would be regarded great,
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All all and all the dry worlds couple,
Ghost with her ghost, contagious man
With the womb of his shapeless people.
How now my flesh, my naked fellow,
Dug of the sea, the glanded morrow,
Worm in the scalp, the staked and fallow.
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