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I find myself absolutely fulfilled when I have written a poem.

Sylvia Plath

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.
SYLVIA PLATH

Cold Expectation Goodness Hard Time Kind Love Mood Time Understand
As a poet, one lives a bit on air. I always like someone who can teach me something practical.
SYLVIA PLATH

Air Always Live Poet Practical Teaching
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my eyes and all is born again.
SYLVIA PLATH

Born Drops Eyes Shut World
I want so obviously, so desperately to be loved, and to be capable of love.
SYLVIA PLATH

Capable Desperate Love Obvious Want
I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night.
SYLVIA PLATH

Field Freedom Sleep Travel Want
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.
SYLVIA PLATH

Fear Feminism Future Live Past Present Regret Rich Spoil
I want to be important. By being different. And these girls are all the same.
SYLVIA PLATH

Attitude Be Yourself Different Girl Imporant Same
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

Beat Beauty Broken Heart Come Back Defeat Home Sorrow Story
Eternity bores me, I never wanted it.
SYLVIA PLATH

Bore Eternity One Liner Want
One thing, I try to be honest. And what is revealed is often rather hideously unflattering.
SYLVIA PLATH

Hide Honesty Reveal Try
Kiss me, and you will see how important I am.
SYLVIA PLATH

Couple Important Kiss
I am dead to them, even though I once flowered.
SYLVIA PLATH

Broken Heart Dead Flower Relationship
I felt myself melting into the shadows like the negative of a person I’d never seen before in my life.
SYLVIA PLATH

Feeling Life Melt Negative Person Shadow
I felt wise and cynical as all hell.
SYLVIA PLATH

Cynical Feeling Hell Wise
She stared at her reflection in the glossed shop windows as if to make sure, moment by moment, that she continued to exist.
SYLVIA PLATH

Continue Existence Moments Reflection She Shop Window
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

Broken Heart Cry Depression Pain Sad

I find myself absolutely fulfilled when I have written a poem.

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I find myself absolutely fulfilled when I have written a poem.

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