A Quote by Anne Sexton

The future is a fog that is still hanging out over the sea, a boat that floats home or does not. — © Anne Sexton
The future is a fog that is still hanging out over the sea, a boat that floats home or does not.
The future is a fog that is still hanging out over the sea, a boat that floats home or does not. The trade winds blow me, and I do not know where the land is; the waves fold over each other; they are in love with themselves; sleeping in their own skin; and I float over them and I do not know about tomorrow.
Fog everywhere. Fog up the river where it flows among green airs and meadows; fog down the river, where it rolls defiled among the tiers of shipping, and the waterside pollutions of a great (and dirty) city.... Chance people on the bridges peeping over the parapets into a nether sky of fog, with fog all round them, as if they were up in a balloon and hanging in the misty clouds.
The fog of illusion, the fog of confusion is hanging all over the world.
I've always wanted to sail around the world in a handmade boat. And I built a boat. I had a boat built for me, I mean, and my second day out to sea I realized that (a) I'm not a sailor, and (b) I have no knowledge of basic navigation.
Writing a novel is like heading out over the open sea in a small boat. It helps, if you have a plan and a course laid out.
I have to build my own boat this time. It's a big sea out there, and I have a pretty small boat. I have a lot of belief in it.
The boat dipped and swayed and sometimes took on water, but it did not sink; the two brothers had waterproofed it well. I do not know where it finally fetched up, if it ever did; perhaps it reached the sea and sails there forever, like a magic boat in a fairytale. All I know is that it was still afloat and still running on the breast of the flood when it passed the incorporated town limits of Derry, Maine, and there it passes out of this tale forever.
This was an evil beyond thinking. The killing of a man was not so evil as the killing of a boat. For a boat does not have sons, and a boat cannot protect itself, and a wounded boat does not heal.
Sometimes, I can see the future stretched out in front of me - just as plain as day. The future hanging over there at the edge of my days. Just waiting for me.
Redwoods flourish in fog, but they don't like salt air. They tend to appear in valleys that are just out of sight of the sea. In their relationship with the sea, redwoods are like cats that long to be stroked but are shy to the touch.
In 2000, I got stuck in the sea off Cyprus after I fell off a boat. I was out there for over an hour. I am not a strong swimmer, but adrenaline kicked in, and I swam back.
Why does the sea moan evermore? Shut out from heaven it makes its moan, It frets against the boundary shore; All earth's full rivers cannot fill The sea, that drinking thirsteth still.
I love hanging out with friends. Honestly, one of my favorite things to do is have game night. Just people coming over and hanging out and laughing and playing games.
Make the most of whatever it is that floats your boat.
One can imagine having a procedural rule that anything ambiguous should be treated as the Taj Mahal unless we see that it is labelled "fog". The motorist replies: "What sort of rule is this? Surely the best guarantee I can have that the fog is fog is if I fail to see the sign saying 'fog' because of the fog."
The writer loves the fog as it pours in; he loves the sun when the fog pours out. The rest of California is Beach Boys country, but San Francisco has that moody thing going on, those blues notes wrapped in moisture, an atmosphere that tempers California dreaming and makes life more real. The fog brings reality, but it is still a California reality, one spent outdoors the whole year round.
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!