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Informationen über Dylan M. Thomas

Schriftsteller (USA, 1914 - 1953).

Dylan M. Thomas · Geburtsdatum · Sterbedatum

Dylan M. Thomas wäre heute 109 Jahre, 5 Monate, 22 Tage oder 39.986 Tage alt.

Geboren am 27.10.1914 in Swansea
Gestorben am 09.11.1953
Sternzeichen: ♏ Skorpion

• Ein Alkoholiker ist ein Mensch, den du nicht magst und der so viel trinkt wie du.
  • Alkohol
  • Genuss! Dichtung - Wahrheit - Weisheit

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• Es gibt für einen Künstler immer nur eine Haltung: aufrecht.
  • Künstler

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• Es war schon schwierig genug, das Zeug zu schreiben. Verlangen Sie nicht von mir, darüber noch etwas zu sagen.

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• Geh nicht so fügsam in die gute Nacht, nein, brennen soll das Alter, wenn der Tag sich neigt, wüte, ja wüte gegen das Sterben des Lichts.

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• Ich werde den Verdacht nicht los, daß Abstinenzler die Sachen nicht mögen, auf die sie verzichten.

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• [An alcoholic:] A man you don't like who drinks as much as you do.

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• An alcoholic is someone you don't like who drinks as much as you do.

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• And I am dumb to tell the lover's tomb How at my sheet goes the same crooked worm.

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• Before you let the sun in, mind it wipes its shoes.

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• Chasing the naughty couples down the grassgreen gooseberried double bed of the wood.

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• 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. After the first death, there is no other.

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• 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.

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• Gomer Owen who kissed her once by the pig-sty when she wasn't looking and never kissed her again although she was looking all the time.

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• It was my thirtieth year to heaven Woke to my hearing from harbour and neighbour wood And the mussel pooled and the heron Priested shore The morning beckon.

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• Light breaks where no sun shines; Where no sea runs, the waters of the heart Push in their tides.

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• My education was the liberty I had to read indiscriminately and all the time, with my eyes hanging out.

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• Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green.

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• Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means, Time held me green and dying Though I sang in my chains like the sea.

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• Oh, isn't life a terrible thing, thank God?

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• Pale rain over the dwindling harbour And over the sea wet church the size of a snail With its horns through mist and the castle Brown as owls But all the gardens Of spring and summer were blooming in the tall vales Beyond the border and under the lark full cloud. There could I marvel My birthday Away but the weather turned around.

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