I have the choice of being constantly active and happy or introspectively passive and sad. Or I can go mad by ricocheting in between.
SYLVIA PLATHWhat I fear most, I think, is the death of the imagination.
More Sylvia Plath Quotes
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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 love my rejection slips. They show me I try.
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Every day is precious and I feel infinitely sad at this time melting away from me.
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Love is a shadow. How you lie and cry after it
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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.
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Aloneness and selfness are too important to betray for company.
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Let me live, love and say it well in good sentences.
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I don’t care about anyone, and the feeling is quite obviously mutual.
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What I fear most, I think, is the death of the imagination.
SYLVIA PLATH -
Hour by hour, day by day, life becomes possible.
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I knew you’d decide to be all right again.
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We should meet in another life, we should meet in air, me and you.
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Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing.
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I am not cruel, only truthful.
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Perfection is terrible, it cannot have children.
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If you expect nothing from somebody you are never disappointed.
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I want so obviously, so desperately to be loved, and to be capable of love.
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Go out and do something. It isn’t your room that’s a prison, it’s yourself.
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Intoxicated with madness, I’m in love with my sadness.
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Cheers for spring; for life; for a growing soul.
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Compared with me, a tree is immortal.
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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 felt overstuffed and dull and disappointed, the way I always do the day after Christmas.
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Love is the bone and sinew of my curse.
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So learn about life. Cut yourself a big slice with the silver server, a big slice of pie. Open your eyes. Let life happen.
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As a poet, one lives a bit on air. I always like someone who can teach me something practical.
SYLVIA PLATH