I am terrified by this dark thing That sleeps in me; All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Remember, remember, this is now, and now, and now. Live it, feel it, cling to it. I want to become acutely aware… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I lay in that tub on the seventeenth floor of this hotel for-women-only, high up over the jazz and push of New… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I have never found anybody who could stand to accept the daily demonstrative love I feel in me, and give back as… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
The first time it happened I was ten. It was an accident. The second time I meant To last it out and… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Frustrated? Yes. Why? Because it is impossible for me to be God — or the universal woman-and-man — or anything much. I… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Poetry, I feel, is a tyrannical discipline, you've got to go so far, so fast, in such a small space that you've… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I began to think vodka was my drink at last. It didn’t taste like anything, but it went straight down into my… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Feel oddly barren. My sickness is when words draw in their horns and the physical world refuses to be ordered, recreated, arranged… — 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
Let's face it: I'm scared, scared and frozen. First, I guess I'm afraid for myself... the old primitive urge for survival. It's… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the… — 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
Nothing is real except the present, and already, I feel the weight of centuries smothering me. Some girl a hundred years ago… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Very depressed today. Unable to write a thing. Menacing gods. I feel outcast on a cold star, unable to feel anything but… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I feel occasionally my skull will crack, fatigue is continuous - I only go from less exhausted to more exhausted & back again. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I lay and cried, and began to feel again, to admit I was human, vulnerable, sensitive. I began to remember how it… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“The sun, emerged from its gray shrouds of cloud, shone with a summer brilliance on the untouched slopes. Pausing in my work… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I felt very still and empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel, moving dully along in the middle of… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
There is something demoralizing about watching two people get more and more crazy about each other, especially when you are the only… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Sometimes I feel like I'm not solid. I'm hollow. There's nothing behind my eyes. I'm a negative of a person. All I… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Is to throw together events from my own life, fictionalizing to add color—it’s a pot boiler really, but I think it will… — 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
