“I guess I should have reacted the way most of the other girls were, but I couldn't get myself to react. I… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
When I fell out of the light, I entered The stomach of indifference, the wordless cupboard. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Very depressed today. Unable to write a thing. Menacing gods. I feel outcast on a cold star, unable to feel anything but… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I lay and cried, and began to feel again, to admit I was human, vulnerable, sensitive. I began to remember how it… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I felt very still and empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel, moving dully along in the middle of… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Outcast on a cold star, unable to feel anything but an awful helpless numbness. I look down into the warm, earthy world.… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
As from a star I saw, coldly and soberly, the separateness of everything. I felt the wall of my skin; I am… — 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
