Last year a friend went dark in a nervous city alone, the sea flashing against his glasses, the sea sorted out at… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
So, now I shall talk every night. To myself. To the moon. I shall walk, as I did tonight, jealous of my… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
From the night Buddy Willard kissed me and said I must go out with a lot of boys, he made me feel… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
This is the light of the mind, cold and planetary. The trees of the mind are black. The light is blue. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again. (I think I… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
But when it came right down to it, the skin of my wrist looked so white and defensless that I couldn't do… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I hate Technicolor. Everybody in a Technicolor movie seems to feel obliged to wear a lurid costume in each new scene and… — 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 Image
I love life. But it is hard and I have so much, so very much to learn. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
... 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 Image
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 Image
“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 Image
“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 Image
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 Image
“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 Image
A million years of evolution, Eric said bitterly, and what are we? Animals. — 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
