237 Quotes by Dylan Thomas

It was snowing. It was always snowing at Christmas. December, in my memory, is white as Lapland, though there were no reindeers. But there were cats.

The crisp path through the field in this December snow, in the deep dark, where we trod the buried grass like ghosts on dry toast.

Some few large men sat in the front parlors (...), Uncles almost certainly, trying their new cigars, holding them out judiciously at arms’ length, returning them to their mouths, coughing, then holding them out again as though waiting for the explosion;

There are always Uncles at Christmas.

Rhianon, he said, hold my hand, Rhianon.She did not hear him, but stood over his bed and fixed him with an unbroken sorrow.Hold my hand, he said, and then: why are your putting the sheet over my face?

I am going into the darkness of the darkness for ever.

And I roseIn rainy autumnAnd walked abroad in a shower of all my days...

To surrender now is to pay the expensive ogre twice.Ancient woods of my blood, dash down to the nut of the seas.If I take to burn or return this world which is each man's work.” ― Dylan Thomas, Collected Poems

I believe in New Yorkers. Whether they've ever questioned the dream in which they live, I wouldn't know, because I won't ever dare ask that question.