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  • #1
    Sylvia Plath
    “The silence depressed me. It wasn't the silence of silence. It was my own silence.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

  • #2
    Sylvia Plath
    “I have the choice of being constantly active and happy or introspectively passive and sad. Or I can go mad by ricocheting in between.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #3
    Sylvia Plath
    “I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
    I lift my lids and all is born again.
    (I think I made you up inside my head.)”
    Sylvia Plath

  • #4
    Sylvia Plath
    “I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
    I lift my eyes and all is born again.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

  • #5
    Sylvia Plath
    “And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter— they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #6
    Sylvia Plath
    “Is there no way out of the mind?”
    Sylvia Plath

  • #7
    Sylvia Plath
    “Can you understand? Someone, somewhere, can you understand me a little, love me a little? For all my despair, for all my ideals, for all that - I love life. But it is hard, and I have so much - so very much to learn.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #8
    Sylvia Plath
    “Remember, remember, this is now, and now, and now. Live it, feel it, cling to it. I want to become acutely aware of all I’ve taken for granted.”
    Sylvia Plath

  • #9
    Sylvia Plath
    “God, but life is loneliness, despite all the opiates, despite the shrill tinsel gaiety of "parties" with no purpose, despite the false grinning faces we all wear. And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter - they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long. Yes, there is joy, fulfillment and companionship - but the loneliness of the soul in its appalling self-consciousness is horrible and overpowering.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #10
    Sylvia Plath
    “When they asked me what I wanted to be I said I didn’t know.
    "Oh, sure you know," the photographer said.
    "She wants," said Jay Cee wittily, "to be everything.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

  • #11
    Sylvia Plath
    “We should meet in another life, we should meet in air, me and you.”
    Sylvia Plath

  • #12
    Sylvia Plath
    “I talk to God but the sky is empty.”
    Sylvia Plath

  • #13
    Sylvia Plath
    “To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is a bad dream.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

  • #14
    Sylvia Plath
    “I felt very still and empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel, moving dully along in the middle of the surrounding hullabaloo.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

  • #15
    Sylvia Plath
    “I must get my soul back from you; I am killing my flesh without it.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #16
    Sylvia Plath
    “How we need another soul to cling to.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #17
    Sylvia Plath
    “I am still so naïve; I know pretty much what I like and dislike; but please, don’t ask me who I am. A passionate, fragmentary girl, maybe?”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #18
    Sylvia Plath
    “Dying
    Is an art, like everything else.
    I do it exceptionally well.
    I do it so it feels like hell.
    I do it so it feels real.
    I guess you could say I have a call.”
    Sylvia Plath, Ariel

  • #19
    Sylvia Plath
    “I was supposed to be having the time of my life.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

  • #20
    Sylvia Plath
    “Perhaps some day I'll crawl back home, beaten, defeated. But not as long as I can make stories out of my heartbreak, beauty out of sorrow.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #21
    Sylvia Plath
    “I love people. Everybody. I love them, I think, as a stamp collector loves his collection. Every story, every incident, every bit of conversation is raw material for me. My love's not impersonal yet not wholly subjective either. I would like to be everyone, a cripple, a dying man, a whore, and then come back to write about my thoughts, my emotions, as that person. But I am not omniscient. I have to live my life, and it is the only one I'll ever have. And you cannot regard your own life with objective curiosity all the time...”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #22
    Sylvia Plath
    “I want to be important. By being different. And these girls are all the same.”
    Sylvia Plath

  • #23
    Sylvia Plath
    “I didn’t want any flowers, I only wanted
    to lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty.
    How free it is, you have no idea how free.”
    Sylvia Plath, Ariel

  • #24
    Sylvia Plath
    “I write only because
    There is a voice within me
    That will not be still”
    Sylvia Plath, Letters Home

  • #25
    Sylvia Plath
    “The thought that I might kill myself formed in my mind coolly as a tree or a flower.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

  • #26
    Sylvia Plath
    “People or stars
    Regard me sadly, I disappoint them.”
    Sylvia Plath, Ariel

  • #27
    Sylvia Plath
    “I want to write because I have the urge to excel in one medium of translation and expression of life. I can't be satisfied with the colossal job of merely living. Oh, no, I must order life in sonnets and sestinas and provide a verbal reflector for my 60-watt lighted head.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #28
    Being born a woman is my awful tragedy. From the moment I was conceived I
    “Being born a woman is my awful tragedy. From the moment I was conceived I was doomed to sprout breasts and ovaries rather than penis and scrotum; to have my whole circle of action, thought and feeling rigidly circumscribed by my inescapable feminity. Yes, my consuming desire to mingle with road crews, sailors and soldiers, bar room regulars--to be a part of a scene, anonymous, listening, recording--all is spoiled by the fact that I am a girl, a female always in danger of assault and battery. My consuming interest in men and their lives is often misconstrued as a desire to seduce them, or as an invitation to intimacy. Yet, God, I want to talk to everybody I can as deeply as I can. I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night...”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath



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