The moment in The Bell Jar when Esther Greenwood realizes after thirty days in the same black turtleneck that she never wants to wash her hair again, that the repeated necessity of the act is too much trouble, that she… — Elizabeth Wurtzel Copy Share Image
People who think that Sylvia Plath was a poor, sensitive poet are not getting that she had great amounts of ambition and anger that moved her along, or she wouldn't have been able to fight against that depression to produce… — Elizabeth Wurtzel Copy Share Image
Belief is a good thing in principle, but an annoying thing in human beings. — Elizabeth Wurtzel Copy Share Image
I can see that I imagine all kinds of rejection that never happens. I can see that I beg and plead for love that… — Elizabeth Wurtzel Copy Share Image
“...if you ask anyone in the throes of depression how he got there, to pin down the turning point, he'll never know. There is… — Elizabeth Wurtzel Copy Share Image
I want to explain how exhausted I am. Even in my dreams. How I wake up tired. How I’m being drowned by some kind… — Elizabeth Wurtzel Copy Share Image
Its the people you are close to, the ones who love you, the ones who have seen your heart, who have touched your soul… — Elizabeth Wurtzel Copy Share Image
if only my whole life could be words and music, if only everything else could slip away. — Elizabeth Wurtzel Copy Share Image
What I would do to be Alice climbing through the looking glass, taking one of those pills that makes you small ... so small.… — Elizabeth Wurtzel Copy Share Image
Divorce has taught us how to sleep with friends, sleep with enemies, and then act like its all perfectly normal in the morning. — Elizabeth Wurtzel Copy Share Image
Just as our parents quieted us when we were noisy by putting us in front of the television set, maybe we're now learning to… — Elizabeth Wurtzel Copy Share Image
I am sick of the girl who cries 'wolf' all the time. Even though not one of those cries was ever a false alarm — Elizabeth Wurtzel Copy Share Image
I'm lost in a loneliness that feels like forever ... like a solitude that never goes away. — Elizabeth Wurtzel Copy Share Image
