I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night. — 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
One night she hid the pink cotton scarf from her raincoat in the pillowcase when the nurse came around to lock up… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I need more than anything right now what is, of course, most impossible, someone to love me, to be with me at… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper, Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of stars Letting in the light, peephole… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
From the night Buddy Willard kissed me and said I must go out with a lot of boys, he made me feel… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
And so I rehabilitate myself - staying up late this Friday night in spite of vowing to go to bed early, because… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Tomorrow I will curse the dawn, but there will be other, earlier nights, and the dawns will be no longer hell laid… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I thought the most beautiful thing in the world must be shadow, the million moving shapes and cul-de-sacs of shadow. There was… — 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
Yes, my consuming desire is to mingle with road crews, sailors and soldiers, barroom regulars—to be a part of a scene, anonymous,… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
It was sometime in October; she had long ago lost track of all the days and it really didn’t matter because one… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Piece by piece, I fed my wardrobe to the night wind, and flutteringly, like a loved one’s ashes, the gray scraps were… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper, Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of stars Letting in the light, peephole… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I buried my head under the darkness of the pillow and pretended it was night. I couldn't see the point of getting… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I opened the door and blinked out into the bright hall. I had the impression it wasn't night and it wasn't day,… — 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
