I find myself absolutely fulfilled when I have written a poem.
SYLVIA PLATHI want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night.
More Sylvia Plath Quotes
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Every day is precious and I feel infinitely sad at this time melting away from me.
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The trouble was, I had been inadequate all along, I simply hadn’t thought about it.
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There is nothing like puking with somebody to make you into old friends.
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Please don’t expect me to always be good and kind and loving. There are times when I will be cold and thoughtless and hard to understand.
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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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Intoxicated with madness, I’m in love with my sadness.
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The hardest thing, I think, is to live richly in the present, without letting it be tainted and spoiled out of fear for the future or regret for a badly-managed past.
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I felt myself melting into the shadows like the negative of a person I’d never seen before in my life.
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People or stars Regard me sadly, I disappoint them.
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The truth comes to me. The truth loves me.
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My mother said the cure for thinking too much about yourself was helping somebody who was worse off than you.
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I talk to God but the sky is empty.
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Opinions are like orgasms, mine matters most and I really don’t care if you have one.
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We should meet in another life, we should meet in air, me and you.
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I have a violence in me that is hot as death-blood.
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The abstract kills, the concrete saves.
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I am not cruel, only truthful.
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What horrifies me most is the idea of being useless: well-educated, brilliantly promising, and fading out into an indifferent middle age.
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I must get my soul back from you; I am killing my flesh without it.
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Everything in life is writable.
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The silence depressed me. It wasn’t the silence of silence. It was my own silence.
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I feel terribly vulnerable and ‘not-myself’ when I’m not writing.
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I am what I feel and think and do.
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I want so obviously, so desperately to be loved, and to be capable of love.
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I hate handing over money to people for doing what I could just as easily do myself, it makes me nervous.
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I didn’t want my picture taken because I was going to cry. I didn’t know why I was going to cry, but I knew that if anybody spoke to me or looked at me too closely the tears would fly out of my eyes and the sobs would fly out of my throat and I’d cry for a week.
SYLVIA PLATH