Sylvia Plath Quotes
Top 100 wise famous quotes and sayings by Sylvia Plath
Sylvia Plath Famous Quotes & Sayings
Discover top inspirational quotes from Sylvia Plath on Wise Famous Quotes.
I am but one more drop in the great sea of matter, defined, with the ability to realize my existence.
All night your moth-breath
Flickers among the flat pink roses. I wake to listen.
A far sea moves in my ear.
Flickers among the flat pink roses. I wake to listen.
A far sea moves in my ear.
And of course I didn't know who would marry me now that I'd been where I had been. I didn't know at all.
I inhabit the wax image of myself, a doll's body. Sickness begins here; I am a dartboard for witches.
Write about the cow, Mrs. Spaulding's heavy eyelids, the smell of vanilla flavoring in a brown bottle. That's where the magic mountains begin.
I wanted to crawl in between those black lines of print, the way you crawl through a fence, and go to sleep under that beautiful big green fig-tree.
Curled in the cavernous leather chair and faced Doctor Gordon across an acre of highly polished desk. Doctor
Wanted to crawl in between those black lines of print the way you crawl through a fence, and go to sleep under that beautiful big green fig tree. It
The door of the novel, like the door of the poem, also shuts. But not so fast, nor with such manic, unanswerable finality.
This is my first snow at Smith. It is like any other snow, but from a different window, and there lies the singular charm of it.
After that, I felt safer. I didn't want anything I said or did that night to be associated with me and my real name and coming from Boston.
The black instrument on the hall table trilled its hysterical note over and over, like a nervous bird.
And I, stepping from this skin Of old bandages, boredoms, old faces Step to you from the black car of Lethe, Pure as a baby.
Read widely of others' experiences, even if it'd be more comfortable to snuggle back in the comforting cotton-wool of blissful ignorance.
Winter is for women The woman still at her knitting, At the cradle of Spanish walnut, Her body a bulb in the cold and too dumb to think.
You will never win anyone through pity. You must create the right kind of dream, the sober, adult kind of magic: illusion born from disillusion.
Ever since I was small I loved feeling somebody comb my hair. It made me go all sleepy and peaceful.
The big men are all deaf; they don't want to hear the little squeaking as they walk across the street on cleated boots.
Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing.
God, is this all it is, the ricocheting down the corridor of laughter and tears? Of self-worship and self-loathing? Of glory and disgust?
So you will rot in the ground, and so you say, what the hell? Who cares? But you care, and somehow you don't want to live just one life.
I could feel the tears brimming and sloshing in me like water in a glass that is unsteady and too full. This