Quotes About Sexton

We all start in this medium because of the magic and the challenge is to keep it going.

I don't care, I love you anyhow. It is too late to turn you out of my heart. Part of you lives here.

We talked death with burned-up intensity, both of us drawn to it like moths to an electric light bulb. Sucking on it!

And so she danced until she was dead, a subterranean figure, her tongue flicking in and out like a gas jet.

This is the desk I sit at and this is the desk where I love you too much and this is the typewriter that sits before me where yesterday only your body sat before me

Only my books anoint me, and a few friends, those who reach into my veins.

I am still librarian in your house, for I never was dismissed, and never gave up the office. Now I am librarian here as well.' 'But you have just told me you were sexton here!' 'So I am. It is much the same profession. Except you are a true sexton, books are but dead bodies to you, and a library nothing but a catacomb!

Augustine, Anne Sexton and Sylvia Plath are confessional writers and all three make me sick. I have nothing in common with them.

So the baby was carried in a small deal box, under an ancient woman's shawl, to the churchyard that night, and buried by lantern-light, at the cost of a shilling and a pint of beer to the sexton, in that shabby corner of God's allotment where He lets the nettles grow, and where all unbaptized infants, notorious drunkards, suicides, and others of the conjecturally damned are laid.

One of the duties of a sexton consisted of 'tapping' coffins, 'so as to facilitate the escape of gases which would otherwise detonate from their confinement'.5 On occasion, the build-up of corpse gas was so intense that coffins actually exploded. In the 1800s, fires beneath St Clement Dane's and Wren's Church of St James's in Jermyn Street destroyed many bodies and burned for days.

The bells, I say, the bells break down their tower; And swing I know not where. Their tongues engrave Membrane through marrow, my long-scattered score Of broken intervals … And I, their sexton slave!