Yes, there is joy, fulfillment and companionship but the loneliness of the soul in its appalling self-consciousness is horrible and overpowering. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
And the danger is that in this move toward new horizons and far directions, that I may lose what I have now,… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“God, but life is loneliness, despite all the opiates, despite the shrill tinsel gaiety of "parties" with no purpose, despite the false… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
No, I won't try to escape myself by losing myself in artificial chatter 'Did you have a nice vacation?' 'Oh, yes, and… — 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
Now I know what loneliness is, I think. Momentary loneliness, anyway. It comes from a vague core of the self - -… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
So, now I shall talk every night. To myself. To the moon. I shall walk, as I did tonight, jealous of my… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
God, but life is loneliness, despite all the opiates, despite the shrill tinsel gaiety of "parties" with no purpose, despite the false… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“There is no living being on earth at this moment except myself. I could walk down the halls, and empty rooms would… — 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
