The silence depressed me. It wasn’t the silence of silence. It was my own silence.
SYLVIA PLATHThe silence depressed me. It wasn’t the silence of silence. It was my own silence.
SYLVIA PLATHI felt myself melting into the shadows like the negative of a person I’d never seen before in my life.
SYLVIA PLATHThe trouble was, I had been inadequate all along, I simply hadn’t thought about it.
SYLVIA PLATHI felt wise and cynical as all hell.
SYLVIA PLATHThe truth comes to me. The truth loves me.
SYLVIA PLATHI find myself absolutely fulfilled when I have written a poem.
SYLVIA PLATHI hate handing over money to people for doing what I could just as easily do myself, it makes me nervous.
SYLVIA PLATHCheers for spring; for life; for a growing soul.
SYLVIA PLATHThe sheets grow heavy as a lecher’s kiss.
SYLVIA PLATHKiss me, and you will see how important I am.
SYLVIA PLATHI love my rejection slips. They show me I try.
SYLVIA PLATHI like people too much or not at all. I’ve got to go down deep, to fall into people, to really know them.
SYLVIA PLATHSo much working, reading, thinking, living to do! A lifetime is not long enough.
SYLVIA PLATHLife has been some combination of fairy-tale coincidence and joie de vivre and shocks of beauty together with some hurtful self-questioning.
SYLVIA PLATHSee, the darkness is leaking from the cracks. I cannot contain it. I cannot contain my life.
SYLVIA PLATHI felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery – air, mountains, trees, people. I thought, This is what it is to be happy.
SYLVIA PLATH