107 Quotes by Ted Hughes

One day God felt he ought to give his workshop a spring clean... It was amazing what ragged bits and pieces came from under his workbench as he swept. Beginnings of creatures, bits that looked useful but had seemed wrong, ideas he'd mislaid and forgotten... There was even a tiny lump of sun. He scratched his head. What could be done with all this rubbish?

Show him every dawn & read to him endlessly.

Prose, narratives, etcetera, can carry healing. Poetry does it more intensely.

The sea cries with its meaningless voice, Treating alike its dead and its living

The real mystery is this strange need. Why can't we just hide it and shut up? Why do we have to blab? Why do human beings need to confess?

You are who you choose to be.

The brassy wood-pigeons Bubble their colourful voices, and the sun Rises upon a world well-tried and old.

where are the gods the gods hate us the gods have run away the gods have hidden in holes the gods are dead of the plague they rot and stink too there never were any gods there’s only death

I shall also take you forth and carve our names together in a yew tree, haloed with stars...