If you pluck out my heart To find what makes it move, You’ll halt the clock That syncopates our love. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
What did my fingers do before they held him? What did my heart do, with its love? — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
At twenty I tried to die And get back, back, back to you. I thought even the bones would do. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“Five balls! Five bright brass balls! To juggle with, my love, when the sky falls.” — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“...love knows not of death nor calculus above the simple sum of heart plus heart.” — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Believe in some beneficent force beyond your own limited self. God, god, god: where are you? I want you, need you: the… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Love set you going like a fat gold watch. The midwife slapped your footsoles, and your bald cry Took its place among… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I fancied you'd return the way you said, But I grow old and I forget your name. (I think I made you… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
To learn and think; to think and live; to live and learn: this always, with new insight, new understanding, and new love. — 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
“And round her house she set Such a barricade of barb and check Against mutinous weather As no mere insurgent man could… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
You can delete me on Facebook, you can unfollow me on Twitter, you can delete my number, but you can never unlick… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I love people. Everybody. I love them, I think, as a stamp collector loves his collection. Every story, every incident, every bit… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I am sending back the key that let me into bluebeard's study; because he would make love to me I am sending… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“Your security and love of life don't depend on the presence of another, but only on yourself, your chosen work, and your… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“From now on when a boy starts telling me about his lost loves I am going to run in the opposite direction… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I need more than anything right now what is, of course, most impossible, someone to love me, to be with me at… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“We are born adventurers, and the love of adventures never leaves us till we are very old; old, timid men, in whose… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“I feel good with my husband: I like his warmth and his bigness and his being-there and his making and his jokes… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“O love, how did you get here? --from "Nick and the Candlestick", written 29 October 1962” — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I love life. But it is hard and I have so much, so very much to learn. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I do not love; I do not love anybody except myself. That is a rather shocking thing to admit. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Can you understand? Someone, somewhere, can you understand me a little, love me a little? — 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
