Sylvia Plath

There was a beautiful time...

— Sylvia Plath

You smile. No, it is not fatal.

— Sylvia Plath

Is anyone anywhere happy?

— Sylvia Plath

“I am your opus.”

— Sylvia Plath

What I want back is what I was.

— Sylvia Plath

The lawn was white with doctors

— Sylvia Plath

I think I am mad sometimes.

— Sylvia Plath

“I'm so jealous I can't speak.”

— Sylvia Plath

I suppose if I gave myself the chance I could be an alcoholic.

— Sylvia Plath

Love is the bone and sinew of my curse.

— Sylvia Plath

Like a cat I have nine times to die.

— Sylvia Plath

What did my arms do before they held you?

— Sylvia Plath

Is there no way out of the mind?

— Sylvia Plath

Compared with me, a tree is immortal.

— Sylvia Plath

“I am alone in my room, between two worlds.”

— Sylvia Plath

I am dead to them, even though I once flowered.

— Sylvia Plath

Every day one has to earn the name of 'writer' over again, with much wrestling.

— Sylvia Plath

Love is an illusion, but I would willingly fall for it if I could believe in it.

— Sylvia Plath

I know the bottom, she says. I know it with my great tap root: It is what you fear. I do not…

— Sylvia Plath

The one thing I was good at was winning scholarships and prizes, and that era was coming to an end.

— Sylvia Plath

“I sometimes think my vision of the sea is the clearest thing I own.”

— Sylvia Plath

A fierce brief fusion which dreamers call real, and realists, an illusion; an insight like the flight of birds.

— Sylvia Plath

I inhabit the wax image of myself, a doll's body. Sickness begins here; I am a dartboard for witches.

— Sylvia Plath

I must get my soul back from you; I am killing my flesh without it.

— Sylvia Plath

I guess they call it suicide, but I'm to full to swallow my pride I can't stand losing you The Police Dying…

— Sylvia Plath

I think if I had done anything else I would like to have been a doctor. This is the sort of polar…

— Sylvia Plath

“Then the sunlight burst into the room through the venetian blinds; I breathed hard, filling my lungs with air. I could see…

— Sylvia Plath

When they asked me what I wanted to be I said I didn’t know. "Oh, sure you know," the photographer said. "She…

— Sylvia Plath

So I began to think maybe it was true that when you were married and had children it was like being brainwashed,…

— Sylvia Plath

“What did my fingers do before they held him? What did my heart do, with its love? From " Three Women: A…

— Sylvia Plath

Sunday-the doctor's paradise! Doctors at country clubs, doctors at the seaside, doctors with mistresses, doctors with wives, doctors in church, doctors in…

— Sylvia Plath

Writing, then, was a substitute for myself: if you don't love me, love my writing & love me for my writing. It…

— Sylvia Plath

Some things are hard to write about. After something happens to you, you go to write it down, and either you over…

— Sylvia Plath

One night she hid the pink cotton scarf from her raincoat in the pillowcase when the nurse came around to lock up…

— Sylvia Plath

Life was not to be sitting in hot amorphic leisure in my backyard idly writing or not writing, as the spirit moved…

— Sylvia Plath

Although, I admit, I desire, Occasionally, some backtalk From the mute sky, I can't honestly complain: A certain minor light may still…

— Sylvia Plath

I think that personal experience is very important, but certainly it shouldn't be a kind of shut-box and mirror-looking, narcissistic experience. I…

— Sylvia Plath

I do not love; I do not love anybody except myself. That is a rather shocking thing to admit. I have none…

— Sylvia Plath

“…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

“To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is the bad dream. A…

— Sylvia Plath