What horrifies me most is the idea of being useless: well-educated, brilliantly promising, and fading out into an indifferent middle age.
SYLVIA PLATHWhat horrifies me most is the idea of being useless: well-educated, brilliantly promising, and fading out into an indifferent middle age.
More Sylvia Plath Quotes
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Sometimes I feel like I’m not solid. I’m hollow. There’s nothing behind my eyes. I’m a negative of a person. All I want is blackness, blackness and silence.
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I feel terribly vulnerable and ‘not-myself’ when I’m not writing.
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I want to write because I have the urge to excel in one medium of translation and expression of life.
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Intoxicated with madness, I’m in love with my sadness.
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We must be moving, working, making dreams to run toward; the poverty of life without dreams is too horrible to imagine.
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I smile, now, thinking: we all like to think we are important enough to need psychiatrists.
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I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am.
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One thing, I try to be honest. And what is revealed is often rather hideously unflattering.
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I want so obviously, so desperately to be loved, and to be capable of love.
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Life has been some combination of fairy-tale coincidence and joie de vivre and shocks of beauty together with some hurtful self-questioning.
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Eternity bores me, I never wanted it.
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See, the darkness is leaking from the cracks. I cannot contain it. I cannot contain my life.
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I felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery – air, mountains, trees, people. I thought, This is what it is to be happy.
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I don’t care about anyone, and the feeling is quite obviously mutual.
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Perhaps some day I’ll crawl back home, beaten, defeated. But not as long as I can make stories out of my heartbreak, beauty out of sorrow.
SYLVIA PLATH