For the few little successes I may seem to have, there are acres of misgivings and self-doubt. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I must not be selfless: develop a sense of self. A solidness that can't be attacked. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
God, is this all it is, the ricocheting down the corridor of laughter and tears? Of self-worship and self-loathing? Of glory and… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Strange, when one thinks of all the other boys, infinite experimental kisses, test tube infatuations, crushes, pseudo-loves. All through this physical separation,… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I feel self-repressed again. The old fall disease. Where is my willpower? The idea of a life gets in the way of… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Believe in some beneficent force beyond your own limited self. God, god, god: where are you? I want you, need you: the… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Now I know what loneliness is, I think. Momentary loneliness, anyway. It comes from a vague core of the self - -… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
A little thing, like children putting flowers in my hair, can fill up the widening cracks in my self-assurance like soothing lanolin. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I don't see,' I said, 'how people stand being old. Your insides all dry up. When you're young you're so self-reliant. You… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I feel, am mad as any writer must in one way be; why not make it real? I am too close to… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
God, but life is loneliness, despite all the opiates, despite the shrill tinsel gaiety of "parties" with no purpose, despite the false… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Yes, there is joy, fulfillment and companionship but the loneliness of the soul in its appalling self-consciousness is horrible and overpowering. — 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
