So much working, reading, thinking, living to do. A lifetime is not long enough. Nor youth to old age long enough. Immortality… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I want to taste and glory in each day, and never be afraid to experience pain; and never shut myself up in… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
How can I tell Bob that my happiness streams from having wrenched a piece out of my life, a piece of hurt… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“It's like watching paris from an express caboose heading in the opposite direction - every second the city gets smaller and smaller,… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
The claw of the magnolia, drunk on its own scents, asks nothing of life. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
A terrible depression yesterday. Visions of my life petering out into a kind of soft-brained stupor from lack of use. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“I felt as if I were sitting in the window of an enormous department store. The figures around me weren't people, but… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“How could I write about life when I'd never had a love affair or a baby or seen anybody die?” — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
See, the darkness is leaking from the cracks. I cannot contain it. I cannot contain my life. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
But life is long. And it is the long run that balances the short flare of interest and passion. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
What is my life for and what am I going to do with it? I don't know and I'm afraid. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I wonder why I don't go to bed and go to sleep. But then it would be tomorrow, so I decide that… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“I want to write because I have the urge to excel in one medium of translation and expression of life. I can't… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
The silence drew off, baring the pebbles and shells and all the tatty wreckage of my life. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
This seemed a dreary and wasted life for a girl with fifteen years of straight A's, but I knew that's what marriage… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
And, I think: I am but one more drop in the great sea of matter, defined, with the ability to realize my… — 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
I saw the years of my life spaced along a road in the form of telephone poles threaded together by wires. I… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“There are times when a feeling of expectancy comes to me, as if something is there, beneath the surface of my understanding,… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“But the life of a Willa Cather, a Lillian Helman, and Virginia Woolf - - - would it not be a series… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
You have lost all delight in life. Ahead is a large array of blind alleys. You are half-deliberately, half-desperately cutting off your… — 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
