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My mother said the cure for thinking too much about yourself was helping somebody who was worse off than you.

Sylvia Plath

Every day is precious and I feel infinitely sad at this time melting away from me.
SYLVIA PLATH

Hurt Infinite Melt Precious Sad
I have stitched life into me like a rare organ.
SYLVIA PLATH

Life Myself Organ Rare Stitch
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
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
See, the darkness is leaking from the cracks. I cannot contain it. I cannot contain my life.
SYLVIA PLATH

Contain Crack Darkness Leak Life
I write only because There is a voice within me That will not be still.
SYLVIA PLATH

Poetry Voice Writing
After all, we are nothing more or less than we choose to reveal.
SYLVIA PLATH

Choose Inspirational Life Reveal
And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.
SYLVIA PLATH

Creative Doubt Enemy Gut Imagination Life Worst Writing
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
I feel terribly vulnerable and ‘not-myself’ when I’m not writing.
SYLVIA PLATH

Feeling Terrible Vilnerable Writing
Cheers for spring; for life; for a growing soul.
SYLVIA PLATH

Cheer Growth Life Positive Soul Spring
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 want so obviously, so desperately to be loved, and to be capable of love.
SYLVIA PLATH

Capable Desperate Love Obvious Want
The abstract kills, the concrete saves.
SYLVIA PLATH

Abstract Concrete Kill One Liner Save
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 love life. But it is hard and I have so much, so very much to learn.
SYLVIA PLATH

Hard Learning Life Love

My mother said the cure for thinking too much about yourself was helping somebody who was worse off than you.

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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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