It is a feeling that no matter what the ideas or conduct of others, there is a unique rightness and beauty to… — 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
And there's the fallacy of existence: the idea that one could be happy forever and age with a given situation or series… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I didn’t want any flowers, I only wanted To lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty. How free it… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I wanted to tell her that if only something were wrong with my body it would be fine, I would rather have… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
If only a group of people were more important to me than the idea of a Novel, I might begin a novel. — 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
What horrifies me most is the idea of being useless: well-educated, brilliantly promising, and fading out into an indifferent middle age. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I didn’t want any flowers, I only wanted to lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty. How free it… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Why am I obsessed with the idea I can justify myself by getting manuscripts published? Is it an escape-an excuse for any… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
It's the living, the eating, the sleeping that everyone needs. Ideas don't matter so much after all. My three best friends are… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I didn't know shorthand either. This meant I couldn't get a good job after college. My mother kept telling me nobody wanted… — 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
