I remember that as I was writing a poem on 'Snow' when I was eight, I said aloud, 'I wish I could… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Remember, remember, this is now, and now, and now. Live it, feel it, cling to it. I want to become acutely aware… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Here I am, a bundle of past recollections and future dreams, knotted up in a reasonably attractive bundle of flesh. I remember… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Let's face it: I'm scared, scared and frozen. First, I guess I'm afraid for myself... the old primitive urge for survival. It's… — 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
Today is the first of August. It is hot, steamy and wet. It is raining. I am tempted to write a poem.… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Let's face it: I'm scared, scared and frozen. First, I guess, I'm afraid for myself ... the old primitive urge for survival.… — 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
