Girls are not machines that you put kindness coins into until sex falls out. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
If I was going to fall, I would hang on to my small comforts, at least, for as long as I possibly… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I find myself absolutely fulfilled when I have written a poem, when I'm writing one. Having written one, then you fall away… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I feel self-repressed again. The old fall disease. Where is my willpower? The idea of a life gets in the way of… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Look at that ugly dead mask here and do not forget it. It is a chalk mask with dead dry poison behind… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
God, it was good to let go, let the tight mask fall off, and the bewildered, chaotic fragments pour out. It was… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I like people too much or not at all. I've got to go down deep, to fall into people, to really know… — 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
The floor seemed wonderfully solid. It was comforting to know I had fallen and could fall no farther. — 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
