That afternoon my mother had brought me the roses. "Save them for my funeral," I'd said. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I need the reality of other people, work, to fulfill myself. Must never become a mere mother and housewife. — 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
My mother said the cure for thinking too much about yourself was helping somebody who was worse off than you. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
My mother had taught shorthand and typing to support us since my father died, and secretly she hated it and hated him… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
When I was learning to creep, my mother set me down on the beach to see what I thought of it. I… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
The journey over the bridge had unnerved me. The river water passed me by like an untouched drink. I suspected that even… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
My mother's face floated to mind, a pale, reproachful moon, at her last and first visit to the asylum since my twentieth… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Why the hell are we conditioned into the smooth strawberry-and-cream Mother-Goose-world, Alice-in-Wonderland fable, only to be broken on the wheel as we… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Mother believed that I should have an enormous amount of sleep, and so I was never really tired when I went to… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Why honey, don't you want to get dressed?" My mother took care never to tell me to do anything. She would only… — 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
... 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
I do not love; I do not love anybody except myself. That is a rather shocking thing to admit. I have none… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I do not want a plain box, I want a sarcophagus With tigery stripes, and a face on it Round as the… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“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 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
