Dylan Marlais Thomas was a Welsh poet and writer whose works include the poems “Do not go gentle into that good night” and “And death shall have no dominion”; the “play for voices” Under Milk Wood; and stories and radio broadcasts such as A Child’s Christmas in Wales and Portrait of the Artist as a Young Dog. Profoundly inspirational Dylan Thomas quotes will get you through anything when the going gets tough and help you succeed in every aspect of life.
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Famous Dylan Thomas Quotes
And death shall have no dominion. Under the windings of the sea they lying long shall not die windily.
I love you so much I’ll never be able to tell you; I’m frightened to tell you. I can always feel your heart. Dance tunes are always right: I love you body and soul.
I suppose soul means that I can hear you and see you and love you in every single, single thing in the whole world asleep or awake.
The photograph is married to the eye, Grafts on its bride one-sided skins of truth.
On the ivory stages, But for the common wages, Of their most secret heart.
The ugly, lovely, at least to me, town is alive, exciting and real though war has made a hideous hole in it.
An Anglo-Welsh writer is neither one thing nor the other. He keeps going in a no-man’s-land between two cultures.
Never be lucid, never state, if you would be regarded great.
Shall I let in the stranger, Shall I welcome the sailor, Or stay till the day I die?
Poetry is not the most important thing in life. I’d much rather lie in a hot bath reading Agatha Christie and sucking sweets.
He who seeks rest finds boredom. He who seeks work finds rest.
The function of posterity is to look after itself.
From poles of skull and toe the windy blood, Slides like a sea; Nor fenced, nor staked, the gushers of the sky.
Time passes. Listen. Time passes. Come closer now. Only you can hear the houses sleeping in the streets in the slow deep salt and silent black, bandaged night.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night.
From August to May, For a searat of man drifting through eternal blue, aboard the finest Debris.
This is the world: the lying likeness of, Our strips of stuff that tatter as we move Loving and being loth; The dream that kicks the buried from their sack, And lets their trash be honoured as the quick.
I’m not a country man; I stand for, if anything the aspidistra, the provincial drive, the morning cafe, the evening pub…
No honest writer today can possibly avoid being influenced by Freud.
Teacher of glorious stories to tell? Man of gold, or stores to sell? Lover to a gentle belle? Maybe a camel; A seashell. What mightn’t’ve been a life where it mightn’t’ve ended well?
Rhianon, he said, hold my hand, Rhianon. She did not hear him, but stood over his bed and fixed him with an unbroken sorrow.
Inspirational Dylan Thomas Quotes
Somebody’s boring me. I think it’s me.
And I am dumb to tell the crooked rose, my youth is bent by the same wintry fever.
Youth calls to age across the tired years: ‘What have you found,’ he cries, ‘what have you sought? ‘What have you found,’ age answers through his tears, ‘What have you sought?’
The majesty and burning of the child’s death.
After the first death, there is no other.
Time held me green and dying, Though I sang in my chains like the sea.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight, Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Because their words had forked no lightning they, Do not go gentle into that good night.
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night.
I can with ease become an ordinary fool. I may be one now. But it doesn’t do to upset one’s own vanity.
A good poem helps to change the shape of the universe, helps to extend everyone’s knowledge of himself and the world around him.
These poems, with all their crudities, doubts and confusions, are written for the love of man and in Praise of God, and I’d be a damn fool if they weren’t.
Though lovers be lost love shall not.
Why do men think you can pick love up and re-light it like a candle? Women know when love is over.
Sleeping as quiet as death, side by wrinkled side, toothless, salt and brown, like two old kippers in a box.
Man’s wants remain unsatisfied till death.
In my craft or sullen art, Exercised in the still night, When only the moon rages, And the lovers lie abed, With all their griefs in their arms.
You’re thinking, you’re no better than you should be, Polly, and that’s good enough for me.
The first poems I knew were nursery rhymes, and before I could read them for myself, I had come to love just the words of them, the words alone.
One: I am a Welshman; two: I am a drunkard; three: I am a lover of the human race, especially of women.
I love you every second of every hour of every day & night.
A horrid alcoholic explosion scatters all my good intentions like bits of limbs and clothes over the doorsteps and into the saloon bars of the tawdriest pubs.
Top Dylan Thomas Quotes
A good poem is a contribution to reality. The world is never the same once a good poem has been added to it.
For various reasons he [an Anglo-Welsh writer] is obliged to write in English.
Nothing grows in our garden, only washing. And babies. And where’s their fathers live, my love? Over the hills and far away.
I used to think that once a writer became a man of letters, if only for a half hour, he was done for.
And here I am now, at the very moment of such an odious, though respectable, danger.
I like worms and corruption.
I said some words to the close and holy darkness and then I slept.
I fell in love — that is the only expression I can think of — at once, and am still at the mercy of words.
Modesty hides my thighs in her wings, And all the deadly virtues plague my death.
Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
I shall not murder, The mankind of her going with a grave truth, Nor blaspheme down the stations of the breath.
Light breaks where no sun shines; Where no sea runs, the waters of the heart, Push in their tides.
I knew, in fact, that I must be a writer of words, and nothing else.
Don’t be too harsh to these poems until they’re typed. I always think typescript lends some sort of certainty: at least, if the things are bad then, they appear to be bad with conviction.
Go on thinking that you don’t need to be read and you’ll find that it may become quite true: no one will feel the need tom read it because it is written for yourself alone.
Dark is a way and light is a place, Heaven that never was Nor will be ever is always true ‘Poem on His Birthday.
Reading one’s own poems aloud is letting the cat out of the bag.
Love is the last light spoken.
What If I’d been a sailor? I think it might’ve ended well.
When one burns one’s bridges, what a very nice fire it makes.
Hold my hand, he said, and then: why are your putting the sheet over my face?
Husk of young stars and handfull zodiac, Love in the frost is pared and wintered by.
Whatever talents I possess may suddenly diminish or suddenly increase.
As I read more and more – and it was not all verse, by any means – my love for the real life of words increased until I knew that I must live with them and in them, always.
And I am dumb to tell the lover’s tomb, How at my sheet goes the same crooked worm.
Deep with the first dead lies London’s daughter, Robed in the long friends, The grains beyond age, the dark veins of her mother, Secret by the unmourning water, Of the riding Thames.
And, broken ghosts with glow-worms in their heads, The things of light, File through the flesh where no flesh decks the bones.