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    sylvia plath Quotes

    I am I-I am powerful, but to what extent? I am I.
    — Sylvia Plath
    tags: powerful 
     
    I ride earth's burning carousel. Day in, day out.
    — Sylvia Plath
    tags: earth 
     
    I hadn't, at the last moment, felt like washing off the two diagonal lines of dried blood that marked my cheeks. They seemed touching, and rather spectacular, and I thought I would carry them around with me, like the relic of a dead lover, till they wore off of their own accord.
    — Sylvia Plath
    tags: thoughts  moment  blood  lover 
     
    Strange, when one thinks of all the other boys, infinite experimental kisses, test tube infatuations, crushes, pseudo-loves. All through this physical separation, through the testing and the trying of the others, there has been this peculiar rapport, comradeship, of us two so alike, so similar, but for science-boy and humanities-girl - the introspection, self examination, biannual deep summarizing conversations, and then the platonic parting.
    — Sylvia Plath
    tags: self  boys  kiss 
     
    I think I may well be a Jew.
    — Sylvia Plath
    I hurl my heart to halt his pace.
    — Sylvia Plath
    tags: heart 
     
    In this particular tub, two knees jut up like icebergs, while minute brown hairs rise on arms and legs in a fringe of kelp; green soap navigates the tidal slosh of seas breaking on legendary beaches; in faith we shall board our imagined ship and wildly sail among sacred islands of the mad till death shatters the fabulous stars and makes us real.
    — Sylvia Plath
    tags: death  star  real  faith  sacred 
     
    Some things are hard to write about. After something happens to you, you go to write it down, and either you over dramatize it, or underplay it, exaggerate the wrong parts or ignore the important ones. At any rate, you never write it quite the way you want to.
    — Sylvia Plath
    tags: wrong  write 
     
    I am silver and exact.I have no preconceptions.
    — Sylvia Plath
    What I didn't say was that each time I picked up a German dictionary or a German book, the very sight of those dense, black, barbed-wire letters made my mind shut like a clam.
    — Sylvia Plath
    tags: time  mind  book  black 
     
    What I fear most, I think, is the death of the imagination.
    — Sylvia Plath
    tags: death  fear  imagination 
     
    I lay in that tub on the seventeenth floor of this hotel for-women-only, high up over the jazz and push of New York, for near unto an hour, and I felt myself growing pure again. I don't believe in baptism or the waters of Jordan or anything like that, but I guess I feel about a hot bath the way those religious people feel about holy water.
    — Sylvia Plath
    When I was nineteen, pureness was the great issue. Instead of the world being divided up into Catholics and Protestants or Republicans and Democrats or white men and black men or even men and women, I saw the world divided into people who had slept with somebody and people who hadn't, and this seemed the only really significant difference between one person and another.
    — Sylvia Plath
    tags: men  people  women  world  black 
     
    I wanted to tell her that if only something were wrong with my body it would be fine, I would rather have anything wrong with my body than something wrong with my head, but the idea seemed so involved and wearisome that I didn't say anything. I only burrowed down further in the bed.
    — Sylvia Plath
    tags: body  wrong  ideas 
     
    The trouble about jumping was that if you didn't pick the right number of stories, you might still be alive when you hit bottom.
    — Sylvia Plath
    tags: right  stories 
     
    I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in life.
    — Sylvia Plath
    tags: live  experience  mental 
     
    I collect men with interesting names.
    — Sylvia Plath
    tags: men 
     
    The more hopeless you were, the further away they hid you.
    — Sylvia Plath
    I had imagined a kind, ugly, intuitive man looking up and say, 'Ah!' in an encouraging way, as if he could see something I couldn't, and then I would find words to tell him how I was so scared, as if I were being stuffed farther and farther into a black, airless sack with no way out.
    — Sylvia Plath
    tags: men  black 
     
    The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper, Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of stars Letting in the light, peephole after peephole-- A bonewhite light, like death, behind all things.
    — Sylvia Plath
    tags: death  star  night  sky 
     
    ...we shall board our imagined ship and wildly sail among sacred islands of the mad till death shatters the fabulous stars and makes us real.
    — Sylvia Plath
    tags: death  star  real  sacred 
     
    You cannot regard your own life with objective curiosity all the time...
    — Sylvia Plath
    tags: time  curiosity 
     
    The only reason I remembered this play was because it had a mad person in it, and everything I had ever read about mad people stuck in my mind, while everything else flew out.
    — Sylvia Plath
    tags: people  mind  read 
     
    I inhabit the wax image of myself, a doll's body. Sickness begins here; I am a dartboard for witches.
    — Sylvia Plath
    tags: body  witch 
     
    Hurl yourself at goals above your head and bear the lacerations that come when you slip and make a fool of yourself. Try always, as long as you have breath in your body, to take the hard way"and work, work, work to build yourself into a rich, continually evolving entity.
    — Sylvia Plath
    tags: work  body  goal  fools 
     
    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- The peacefulness is so big it dazes you, And it asks nothing, a name tag, a few trinkets. It is what the dead close on, finally; I imagine them Shutting their mouths on it, like a Communion tablet.
    — Sylvia Plath
    tags: lies  flowers  ideas  imagine 
     
    But when it came right down to it, the skin of my wrist looked so white and defenseless that I couldn't do it.
    — Sylvia Plath
    tags: right 
     
    God, is this all it is, the ricocheting down the corridor of laughter and tears? Of self-worship and self-loathing? Of glory and disgust?
    — Sylvia Plath
    tags: laughter  god 
     
    I had been alone more than I could have been had I gone by myself.
    — Sylvia Plath
    tags: alone  gone 
     
    How can I tell Bob that my happiness streams from having wrenched a piece out of my life, a piece of hurt and beauty, and transformed it to typewritten words on paper? How can he know I am justifying my life, my keen emotions, my feeling, by turning it into print?
    — Sylvia Plath
    But writing poems and letters doesn't seem to do much good.
    — Sylvia Plath
    tags: writing  poem 
     
    Perhaps, perhaps this would be the one to pull me out of my plunge.
    — Sylvia Plath
    No, I won't try to escape myself by losing myself in artificial chatter 'Did you have a nice vacation?' 'Oh, yes, and you?' I'll stay here and try to pin that loneliness down.
    — Sylvia Plath
    tags: loneliness 
     
    But they know. They all know. And what am I against so many"?
    — Sylvia Plath
    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
    tags: children  child  flowers 
     
    "beating time along the edge of thought.
    — Sylvia Plath
    tags: time  thoughts 
     
    And what is happy? It is a going always on. There is something better to be done than I have done, and spurred by the fair delusion of progress, I will seek to progress, to whip myself on, to more and more- to learning. Always.
    — Sylvia Plath
    tags: progress  learning 
     
    I saw the years of my life spaced along a road in the form of telephone poles threaded together by wires. I counted one, two, three... nineteen telephone poles, and then the wires dangled into space, and try as I would, I couldn't see a single pole beyond the nineteenth.
    — Sylvia Plath
    tags: space  year 
     
    If you have no past or no future, which, after all, is all that the present is made of, why then you may as well dispose of the empty shell of present and commit suicide. But the cold reasoning mass of gray entrail in my cranium which parrots, "I think, therefore I am,' whispers that there is always the turning, the upgrade, the new slant. And so I wait.
    — Sylvia Plath
    tags: future  past  present  suicide 
     
    I think I am mad sometimes.
    — Sylvia Plath
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