I am terrified by this dark thing That sleeps in me; All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I wanted to crawl in between those black lines of print, the way you crawl through a fence, and go to sleep… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Whenever I'm sad I'm going to die, or so nervous I can't sleep, or in love with somebody I won't be seeing… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
And so I rehabilitate myself - staying up late this Friday night in spite of vowing to go to bed early, because… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Mother believed that I should have an enormous amount of sleep, and so I was never really tired when I went to… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I wonder why I don't go to bed and go to sleep. But then it would be tomorrow, so I decide that… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
It's the living, the eating, the sleeping that everyone needs. Ideas don't matter so much after all. My three best friends are… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
God, if ever I have come close to wanting to commit suicide, it is now, with the groggy sleepless blood dragging through… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I am terrified by this dark thing That sleeps in me; All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity. Clouds… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I thought if only I had a keen, shapely bone structure to my face or could discuss politics shrewdly or was a… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I may never be happy, but tonight I am content. Nothing more than an empty house, the warm hazy weariness from a… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
When they asked some old Roman philosopher or other how he wanted to die, he said he would open his veins in… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I saw the days of the year stretching ahead like a series of bright, white boxes, and separating one box from another… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I shall never get out of this! There are two of me now: This new absolutely white person and the old yellow… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Yes, my consuming desire is to mingle with road crews, sailors and soldiers, barroom regulars—to be a part of a scene, anonymous,… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“Later Buddy told me the woman was on a drug that would make her forget she'd had any pain and that when… — 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
