“What a man wants is is an arrow into the future and what a woman is is the place the arrow shoots… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“Let me not be sentimental, let the distance in time give me humor and irony and a shrewd, if loving, eye.” — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
What a man is is an arrow into the future, and what a woman is is the place the arrow shoots off… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Do we always grind through the present, doomed to throw a gold haze of fond retrospect over the past? — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
And I a smiling woman. I am only thirty. And like the cat I have nine times to die. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
When you are insane, you are busy being insane-all the time ... when I was crazy, that was all I was. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“Now I know how people can live without books, without college. (...)and so one goes on living, near the earth. At times… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
She stared at her reflection in the glossed shop windows as if to make sure, moment by moment, that she continued to… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
It is as if my life were magically run by two electric currents: joyous positive and despairing negative - whichever is running… — 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
“…historians will say 'We have a few documents to show how the common people lived at this time. Records lead us to… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
The hardest thing, I think, is to live richly in the present, without letting it be tainted & spoiled out of fear… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
What I didn't say was that each time I picked up a German dictionary or a German book, the very sight of… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Here I am, a bundle of past recollections and future dreams, knotted up in a reasonably attractive bundle of flesh. I remember… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
The thing about writing is not to talk, but to do it; no matter how bad or even mediocre it is, the… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
On the train: staring hypnotized at the blackness outside the window, feeling the incomparable rhythmic language of the wheels, clacking out nursery… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“I've been wondering. . . I mean, I thought you might be able to tell me something." Buddy met my eyes and… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I hadn't, at the last moment, felt like washing off the two diagonal lines of dried blood that marked my cheeks. They… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Why am I obsessed with the idea I can justify myself by getting manuscripts published? Is it an escape-an excuse for any… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Pretty soon, the only doubt in my mind was the precise time and method of committing suicide. The only alternative I could… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
For a time, I believed not in God nor Santa Claus, but in mermaids. They seemed as logical and possible to me… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
If you have no past or no future, which, after all, is all that the present is made of, why then you… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“There is no living being on earth at this moment except myself. I could walk down the halls, and empty rooms would… — 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
“Being born a woman is my awful tragedy. From the moment I was conceived I was doomed to sprout breasts and ovaries… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“God, I scream for time to let go, to write, to think. But no. I have to exercise my memory in little… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“You are twenty. You are not dead, although you were dead. The girl who died. And was resurrected. Children. Witches. Magic. Symbols.… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I can't deceive myself out of the bare stark realization that no matter how enthusiastic you are, no matter how sure that… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“There is still time to veer, to sally forth, knapsack on back, for unknown hills over which…only the wind knows what lies.… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I may never be happy, but tonight I am content. At times like this I'd call myself a fool to ask for… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Every day is precious and I feel infinitely sad at this time melting away from me. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
The hardest thing is to live richly in the present without letting it be tainted out of fear for the future or… — 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
![“From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, [...] and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another…” quote by Sylvia Plath](https://sms4smile.com/q/img-quotes/117/sylvia-plath-149_happy-home_from-the-tip-of-every-branch-like-a-fat_1685424.jpg)
