“I had hoped to make her strong and healthy, and now she may be too weak herself after this slow death, like… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I am inhabited by a cry. Nightly it flaps out Looking, with its hooks, for something to love. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I have no preconceptions. Whatever I see, I swallow immediately. Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike. I am not… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“brave love, dream not of staunching such strict flame, but come, lean to my wound; burn on, burn on.” — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Love is an illusion, but I would willingly fall for it if I could believe in it. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Is it the sea you hear in me? Its dissatisfactions? Or the voice of nothing, that was your madness? Love is a… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Love set you going like a fat gold watch. The midwife slapped your footsoles, and your bald cry Took its place among… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
That is salvation. To give of love inside. To keep love of life, no matter what, and give to others. Generously. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“Then I knew what the trouble was. I needed experience. How could I write about life when I'd never had a love… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“But I would rather be horizontal. I am not a tree with my root in the soil. Sucking up minerals and motherly… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
... you looked around and saw everybody either married or busy and happy and thinking and being creative, and you felt scared,… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Clouds pass and disperse. Are those the faces of love, those pale irretrievables? Is it for such I agitate my heart? — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I love people. Everybody. I love them, I think, as a stamp collector loves his collection. Every story, every incident, every bit… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“Who are you in love with?" I said then. For a minute Marco didn't say anything, he simply opened his mouth and… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“I fancied you'd return the way you said, But I grow old and I forget your name. --From the poem "Mad Girl's… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
It was my last act of love (first words to her mother in the hospital after her first major suicide attempt) — 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
