“The claw / Of the magnolia, / Drunk on its own secrets, / Asks nothing of life.” — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
The claw of the magnolia, drunk on its own scents, asks nothing of life. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
What is my life for and what am I going to do with it? I don't know and I'm afraid. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“Her ambition to write stories was the most visible burden of her life.” — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
We must be moving, working, making dreams to run toward; the poverty of life without dreams is too horrible to imagine. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I find that in a novel I can get more of life, perhaps not such intense life, but certainly more of life… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in life. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I feel self-repressed again. The old fall disease. Where is my willpower? The idea of a life gets in the way of… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“I have stitched life into me like a rare organ --from "Three Women: A Poem for Three Voices", written 1962” — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“I couldn't stand the idea of a woman having to have a single pure life and a man being able to have… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
But life is long. And it is the long run that balances the short flare of interest and passion. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“I would like to be everyone, a cripple, a dying man, a whore, and then come back to write about my thoughts,… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
It is a feeling that no matter what the ideas or conduct of others, there is a unique rightness and beauty to… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“Why are we conditioned to the smooth, strawberry-and-cream Mother-Goose-world... only to be broken on the wheel as we grow older and become… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“And this is how it stiffens, my vision of that seaside childhood. My father died, we moved inland. Whereon those nine first… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“I felt as if I were sitting in the window of an enormous department store. The figures around me weren't people, but… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Do I like to write? Why? About what? Will I give up and say, "Living and feeding a man's insatiable guts and… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
If I tried to describe my personality, I'd start to gush about living by the ocean half my life and being brought… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“I told him I believed in hell, and that certain people, like me, had to live in hell before they died, to… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“...my writing, my desire to be many lives. I will be a little god in my small way. At home on my… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
…* to learn that money makes life smooth in some ways, and to feel how tight and threadbare life is if you… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“With me, the present is forever and forever is always shifting, flowing, melting. This second is life. And when it is gone… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
God, but life is loneliness, despite all the opiates, despite the shrill tinsel gaiety of "parties" with no purpose, despite the false… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“I want to write because I have the urge to excel in one medium of translation and expression of life. I can't… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“But the life of a Willa Cather, a Lillian Helman, and Virginia Woolf - - - would it not be a series… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“What is my life for and what am I going to do with it? I don't know and I'm afraid. I can… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“There are times when a feeling of expectancy comes to me, as if something is there, beneath the surface of my understanding,… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
That is salvation. To give of love inside. To keep love of life, no matter what, and give to others. Generously. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Living with him is like being told a perpetual story: his mind is the biggest, most imaginative I have ever met. I… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
You have to be able to make a real creative life for Yourself, before you can expect anyone Else to provide one… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
See, the darkness is leaking from the cracks. I cannot contain it. I cannot contain my life. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Read widely of others' experiences, even if it'd be more comfortable to snuggle back in the comforting cotton-wool of blissful ignorance. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I felt myself melting into the shadows like the negative of a person I'd never seen before in my life. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
It is as if my life were magically run by two electric currents: joyous positive and despairing negative--which ever is running at… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“It was a queer, sultry summer, the summer they electrocuted the Rosenbergs, and I didn't know what I was doing in New York.” — Sylvia Plath Copy Share
... These are my hands My knees. I may be skin and bone, Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman. ... --Lady Lazarus — Sylvia Plath Copy Share
Sure, I’m dramatic and sloppily semi-cynical and semi-sentimental. But, in leisure years I could grow and choose my way. Now I am living on… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share
“People were made of nothing so much as dust, and I couldn't see that doctoring all that dust was a bit better than writing… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share
“I couldn't stand the idea of a woman having to have a single pure life and a man being able to have a double… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share
I saw the gooseflesh on my skin. I did not know what made it. I was not cold. Had a ghost passed over? No,… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share
“The city had faded my tan, though. I looked yellow as a Chinaman. Ordinarily, I would have been nervous about my dress and my… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share
A million years of evolution, Eric said bitterly, and what are we? Animals. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share
“I have stitched life into me like a rare organ --from "Three Women: A Poem for Three Voices", written 1962” — Sylvia Plath Copy Share
“Flute Notes from a Reedy Pond" Now coldness comes sifting down, layer after layer, To our bower at the lily root. Overhead the old… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share
“The most saddening thing is to admit that I am not in love. I can only love (if that means self denial - or… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share
