What is so real as the cry of a child? A rabbit's cry may be wilder But it has no soul. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I want to force myself again and again to leave the warmth and security of static situations and move into the world… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
How we need another soul to cling to, another body to keep us warm. To rest and trust; to give your soul… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I had removed my patent leather shoes after a while, for they foundered badly in the sand. It pleased me to think… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Stars open among the lilies. Are you not blinded by such expressionless sirens? This is the silence of astounded souls. — 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
