What is so real as the cry of a child? A rabbit's cry may be wilder But it has no soul. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I think my poems immediately come out of the sensuous and emotional experiences I have, but I must say I cannot sympathise… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I wish to cry. Yet, I laugh, and my lipstick leaves a red stain like a bloody crescent moon on top of… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I didnt want my picture taken because I was going to cry. I didnt know why I was going to cry, but… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I need some older, wiser being to cry to. I talk to God, but the sky is empty, and Orion walks by… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
To look at her, you might not guess that inside she is laughing and crying, at her own stupidities and luckiness, and… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
It is best to meet in a cul-de-sac, A palace of velvet With windows of mirrors. There one is safe, There are… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I want, I think, to be omniscient. I think I would like to call myself "the girl who wanted to be God."… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I am inhabited by a cry. Nightly it flaps out Looking, with its hooks, for something to love. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Is it the sea you hear in me? Its dissatisfactions? Or the voice of nothing, that was your madness? Love is a… — 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
“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
