Heart Quotes by Sylvia Plath

Wear your heart on your skin in this life.

— Sylvia Plath

O heart, such disorganization!

— Sylvia Plath

The blood of love welled up in my heart with a slow pain.

— Sylvia Plath

I hurl my heart to halt his pace.

— Sylvia Plath

“...love knows not of death nor calculus above the simple sum of heart plus heart.”

— Sylvia Plath

If you pluck out my heart To find what makes it move, You’ll halt the clock That syncopates our love.

— Sylvia Plath

Let me sit in a flowerpot, The spiders won't notice. My heart is a stopped geranium.

— Sylvia Plath

What did my fingers do before they held him? What did my heart do, with its love?

— Sylvia Plath

It is a terrible thing to be so open: it is as if my heart put on a face and walked into…

— Sylvia Plath

When you give someone your whole heart and he doesn't want it, you cannot take it back. It's gone forever.

— Sylvia Plath

I took a deep breath and listened to the old bray of my heart. I am. I am. I am.

— Sylvia Plath

How frail the human heart must be - a mirrored pool of thought.

— Sylvia Plath

Why do we electrocute men for murdering an individual and then pin a purple heart on them for mass slaughter of someone…

— Sylvia Plath

I think my poems immediately come out of the sensuous and emotional experiences I have, but I must say I cannot sympathise…

— Sylvia Plath

Piece by piece, I fed my wardrobe to the night wind, and flutteringly, like a loved one’s ashes, the gray scraps were…

— Sylvia Plath

If I have a dry spell ... I wait and live harder, eyes, ears, and heart open, and when the productive time…

— Sylvia Plath

There is a charge For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge For the hearing of my heart - It…

— Sylvia Plath

I am terrified by this dark thing That sleeps in me; All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity. Clouds…

— Sylvia Plath

... you looked around and saw everybody either married or busy and happy and thinking and being creative, and you felt scared,…

— Sylvia Plath

The moon, too, abases her subjects, but in the daytime she is ridiculous. Your dissatisfactions, on the other hand, arrive through the…

— Sylvia Plath

I am sending back the key that let me into bluebeard's study; because he would make love to me I am sending…

— Sylvia Plath

My thoughts are crabbed and sallow, My tears like vinegar, Or the bitter blinking yellow Of an acetic star. Tonight the caustic…

— Sylvia Plath

Clouds pass and disperse. Are those the faces of love, those pale irretrievables? Is it for such I agitate my heart?

— Sylvia Plath

And I am aware of my heart: it opens and closes Its bowl of red blooms out of sheer love of me.

— Sylvia Plath

“Her ambition to write stories was the most visible burden of her life.”

— Sylvia Plath

Bright beads of red are rising through the ink, Hearts-blood bubbles smearing out into the black stream

— Sylvia Plath

Every woman adores a Fascist, The boot in the face, the brute Brute heart of a brute like you.

— Sylvia Plath