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
Related ...we shall board our imagined ship and wildly sail among sacred islands of the mad till death shatt... SYLVIA PLATH Behind him lay the gray Azores, Behind the gates of Hercules; Before him not the ghost of sho... JOAQUIN MILLER Are we like two stars in a constellation Seeming so close And making so much sense Ye... JUSTIN WETCH The Call Out of the nothingness of sleep, The slow dreams of Eternity, There wa... RUPERT BROOKE What We Want What we want is never simple. We move among the things LINDA PASTAN Lay down Your tired & weary head my friend. We have wept too long Night is fallin... JOSé N. HARRIS Penelope In the pathway of the sun, In the footsteps of the breeze, Where the... DOROTHY PARKER We are broken. Our ways are apart. Still we laugh together and taunt. We fight and get hur... IRFA ADAM The Lover Compareth his State to a Ship in Perilous Storm Tossed on the Sea My galley cha... THOMAS WYATT Let us go then, you and I, When the evening is spread out against the sky Like... JOHN GREEN When we get out of the glass bottles of our ego, and when we escape like squirrels turning in t... D.H. LAWRENCE Steadfast Seas and Mountains The lofty mountains and the seas, Being mountains, bei... REIKO CHIBA A song she heard Of cold that gathers Like winter's tongue Among the shadows It ... ROBERT FANNEY I WANT her though, to take the same from me. She touches me as if I were herself, her own. D.H. LAWRENCE Let's sail on sailors on this voyage of discovery! If not new worlds, at least we w... AVIJEET DAS I'm completely in favor of the separation of Church and State. ... These two institution... GEORGE CARLIN And did those feet in ancient time Walk upon England's mountains green And was the holy la... WILLIAM BLAKE There were once two sisters who were not afriad of the dark because the dark was full of t... JANDY NELSON FORKED BRANCHES We grew up on the same street, You and me. We went to the... SUZY KASSEM Beasts bounding through time. Van Gogh writing his brother for paints Hemingway tes... CHARLES BUKOWSKI I have seen them riding seaward on the waves Combing the white hair of the waves blown back T.S. ELIOT But Carroll's were more convoluted, and they struck me as funny in a new way: 1) Babies a... STEVE MARTIN Though we might have precious little It's still precious I like that song about this... RUSH in the afterglow of an evening rain i lay down in the grass and think of ... SANOBER KHAN SEA OF LIFE This is not the end, my friend. Just as the ocean sings songs to infinit... SUZY KASSEM It started when we were little kids. Free spirits, but already tormented by our own hands<... ANTHONY KIEDIS We grew up on the same street, You and me. We went to the same schools, Rode the same... SUZY KASSEM A Litany for Survival For those of us who live at the shoreline standing upon... AUDRE LORDE Not marble nor the gilded monuments Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme, But you... WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE I write poetry, worry, smile, laugh sleep continue for a while just like most of... CHARLES BUKOWSKI Hold fast To the law Of the last Cold tome, Where the earth Of the truth MERVYN PEAKE AUTUMNAL Pale amber sunlight falls across The reddening October trees, That ... ERNEST DOWSON The Son of God perishes that we may not perish. He rises that we may rise. Tha... DAVID HOLDSWORTH Out of the huts of history's shame I rise Up from a past that's rooted in pain I rise... MAYA ANGELOU We thought everything would be forgotten, but I still remember your claws running down my... ZAEEMA J. HUSSAIN The Moon And, like a dying lady lean and pale, Who totters forth, wrapp'd in ... PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY Maturity A stationary sense . . . as, I suppose, I shall have, till my single body g... PHILIP LARKIN Cold be hand and heart and bone, and cold be sleep under stone: never more to wake on ... J.R.R. TOLKIEN I grow old … I grow old … I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled. Sha... T.S. ELIOT If we seek solace in the prisons of the distant past Security in human systems we're told will ... STING The King beneath the mountains, The King of carven stone, The lord of silver fountains J.R.R. TOLKIEN Oh draw at my heart, love, Draw till I'm gone, That, fallen asleep, I Still may love ... NOVALIS love builds up the broken wall and straigtens the crooked path. love keeps the stars in the ... MAYA ANGELOU As I age in the world it will rise and spread, and be for this place horizon and orison, t... WENDELL BERRY To His Coy Mistress Had we but world enough and time, This coyness, lady, we... ANDREW MARVELL Fireflies in the Garden By Robert Frost 1874–1963 Here come real stars to fill th... ROBERT FROST From birth to death and further on As we were born and introduced into this world, W... VIRGIL KALYANA MITTATA IORDACHE I sang of leaves, of leaves of gold, and leaves of gold there grew: Of wind I sang, a wind ther... J.R.R. TOLKIEN Why We Tell Stories I Because we used to have leaves and on damp days ... LISEL MUELLER While walking in a toy store The day before today, I overheard a Crayon Box With many thin... ANON. The Clock on the Morning Lenape Building Must Clocks be circles? Time is not a circl... JERRY SPINELLI Sentinels of trees breathe life into bodies of earthly flesh As their mighty arms reach to... RAMON RAVENSWOOD If we surrendered to earth’s intelligence we could rise up rooted, like trees. RAINER MARIA RILKE A mother's love is like an island In life's ocean vast and wide, A peaceful, quiet shelter HELEN STEINER RICE Life by life and love by love We passed through the cycles strange, And breath by breath and... LANGDON SMITH Now therefore, while the youthful hue Sits on thy skin like morning dew, And while thy w... ANDREW MARVELL The journey through another world, beyond bad dreams beyond the memories of a murdered generati... ELIZABETH COOK-LYNN Ash, ash —- You poke and stir. Flesh, bone, there is nothing there—— A ca... SYLVIA PLATH For I dance And drink and sing, Till some blind hand Shall brush my wing. If t... WILLIAM BLAKE Now from his breast into the eyes the ache of longing mounted, and he wept at last, his de... HOMER On Generosity On our own, we conclude: there is not enough to go around w... WALTER BRUEGGEMANN When Death Comes When death comes like the hungry bear in autumn; when... MARY OLIVER Fuck You Poem #45 Fuck you in slang and conventional English. Fuck you in lost and n... AMY GERSTLER Once upon a time there was a young prince who believed in all things but three. He did not believe i... JOHN FOWLES when we were kids laying around the lawn on our bellies we often talked CHARLES BUKOWSKI This is an ode to life. The anthem of the world. For as there are billions of differe... KAMAND KOJOURI The weight of the world is love. Under the burden of solitude, under the burden<... ALLEN GINSBERG The morning is full of storm in the heart of summer. The clouds travel like white ha... PABLO NERUDA We grow old judging others And ourselves Until life humbles us And makes scared child... KAMAND KOJOURI Cast up the heart flops over gasping 'Love' a foolish fish which tries to draw<... LAWRENCE FERLINGHETTI You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may tread me in the v... MAYA ANGELOU If this turns to friendship, it only means That one of us will suffer. That when we ... CYRIL WONG MORNINGTIDE The wonderful works of morningtide bring the sight of lumino... TARA ESTACAAN Beasts of England, beasts of Ireland, Beasts of every land and clime, Hearken to my joyful... GEORGE ORWELL In this space, We do raw We do loud hearts & truthful art We do ... BRYONIE WISE Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world Like a Colossus, and we petty men Walk under his ... WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world Like a Colossus, and we petty men Walk under h... WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE The Weight of One Feather" Given. Many fear death Because they already SUZY KASSEM I sit beside the fire and think Of all that I have seen Of meadow flowers and butterflies... J.R.R. TOLKIEN Aegean Islands 1940-41 Where white stares, smokes or breaks, Thread white, white of ... BERNARD SPENCER Time machine to the past Step back a few years Old feelings, like Lazarus Suddenly re... JUSTIN WETCH If You Forget Me I want you to know one thing. You know how this is: PABLO NERUDA The truth is sealed. Life goes on. Till one day, history changed... Like thief in ... TOBA BETA The locust continues to devour the world Hunger persists Love lurches on listing... LAWRENCE FERLINGHETTI The Children's Hour Between the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning t... HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW There is a desire within each of us, in the deep center of ourselves that we call our hea... GERALD G. MAY I thought of you and how you love this beauty, And walking up the long beach all alone I h... SARA TEASDALE So your flesh shall be part of mine And part of mine be yours. Brother and sister we shall b... WILLIAM EMPSON O, here Will I set up my everlasting rest, And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars F... WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE you say we were never meant for this vowed life, golden bands of only us, and death BETH MOREY Ephemera Your eyes that once were never weary of mine Are bowed in sorrow un... W.B. YEATS A Boat O beautiful was the werewolf in his evil forest. We took him t... RICHARD BRAUTIGAN I AM CONVINCED I am convinced That if all mankind Could only gather together LEONARD NIMOY We wear our lives Like costumes Use bills and coins like props In an over budget pro... SHANE L. KOYCZAN I am a sailor, you're my first mate We signed on together, we coupled our fate Hauled up... JOHN MCDERMOTT A JEWELRY STORE NAMED INDIA If you hold this Dazzling emerald Up to the sky, SUZY KASSEM Blow on, ye death fraught whirlwinds! blow, Around the rocks, and rifted caves; Ye demons... ANNE BANNERMAN YER OF THE VIGILE DEL FUOCO Lord who light the skyes and fill up the abysses, burn in ... ANON. Horses At Midnight Without A Moon" Our heart wanders lost in the dark woods. Our dre... JACK GILBERT Little Fly Thy summers play, My thoughtless hand Has brush'd away. Am not ... WILLIAM BLAKE
More Sylvia Plath
If neurotic is wanting two mutually exclusive things at one and the same time, then I'm neurotic... SYLVIA PLATH I don't believe that the meek will inherit the earth; The meek get ignored and trampled. SYLVIA PLATH There is so much hurt in this game of searching for a mate, of testing, trying. And you realize sudd... SYLVIA PLATH I have the choice of being constantly active and happy or introspectively passive and sad. SYLVIA PLATH What I want back is what I was. SYLVIA PLATH I love people. Everybody. I love them, I think, as a stamp collector loves his collection. Every sto... SYLVIA PLATH Indecision and reveries are the anesthetics of constructive action. SYLVIA PLATH How frail the human heart must be - a mirrored pool of thought. SYLVIA PLATH It is as if my life were magically run by two electric currents: joyous positive and despairing nega... SYLVIA PLATH If you expect nothing from anybody, you're never disappointed. SYLVIA PLATH The sea was our main entertainment. When company came, we set them before it on rugs, with thermoses... SYLVIA PLATH I do not want a plain box, I want a sarcophagus With tigery stripes, and a face on it Round a... SYLVIA PLATH dying is an art, like everything else. I do it exceptionally well. I do it so it feels like hell. I ... SYLVIA PLATH Now and then, when I grow nostalgic about my ocean childhood - the wauling of gulls and the smell of... SYLVIA PLATH I see in Cambridge, particularly among the women dons, a series of such grotesques! It is almost lik... SYLVIA PLATH But life is long. And it is the long run that balances the short flare of interest and passion SYLVIA PLATH I never wanted to get married. The last thing I wanted was infinite security and to be the place an ... SYLVIA PLATH What I want back is what I was
Before the bed, before the knife,
Before the brooch-pin and the salve... SYLVIA PLATH I do not want a plain box, I want a sarcophagus
With tigery stripes, and a face on it
Round as the m... SYLVIA PLATH For me, poetry is an evasion of the real job of writing prose. SYLVIA PLATH I lean to you, numb as a fossil. Tell me I'm here. SYLVIA PLATH Apparently, the most difficult feat for a Cambridge male is to accept a woman not merely as feeling,... SYLVIA PLATH I felt very still and empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel, moving dully along in the middl... SYLVIA PLATH I have never found anybody who could stand to accept the daily demonstrative love I feel in me, and ... SYLVIA PLATH I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I... SYLVIA PLATH I told him I believed in hell, and that certain people, like me, had to live in hell before they die... SYLVIA PLATH How we need another soul to cling to. SYLVIA PLATH I talk to God but the sky is empty. SYLVIA PLATH I am terrified by this dark thing that sleeps in me. SYLVIA PLATH I wonder why I don't go to bed and go to sleep. But then it would be tomorrow, so I decide that no m... SYLVIA PLATH Yes, I was infatuated with you: I am still. No one has ever heightened such a keen capacity of physi... SYLVIA PLATH God, but life is loneliness, despite all the opiates, despite the shrill tinsel gaiety of "parties" ... SYLVIA PLATH And the danger is that in this move toward new horizons and far directions, that I may lose what I h... SYLVIA PLATH Perhaps some day I'll crawl back home, beaten, defeated. But not as long as I can make stories out o... SYLVIA PLATH Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, it is because we are dangerously close to wanting... SYLVIA PLATH I woke to the sound of rain. SYLVIA PLATH Is there no way out of the mind? SYLVIA PLATH The blood jet is poetry and there is no stopping it. SYLVIA PLATH How frail the human heart must be --a mirrored pool of thought... SYLVIA PLATH I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my eyes and all is born again. SYLVIA PLATH Widow. The word consumes itself. SYLVIA PLATH If neurotic is wanting two mutually exclusive things at one and the same time, then I'm neurotic as ... SYLVIA PLATH The man creates a pseudonym and hides behind it like a worm SYLVIA PLATH Kiss me and you will see how important I am. SYLVIA PLATH If I tried to describe my personality, I'd start to gush about living by the ocean half my life ... SYLVIA PLATH Every woman adores a Fascist. SYLVIA PLATH I pass by people, grazing them on the edges, and it bothers me. I've got to admire someone to re... SYLVIA PLATH I felt proud that the baby's first real adventure should be as a protest against the insanity of... SYLVIA PLATH I have felt great advances in my poetry, the main one being a growing victory over word nuances and ... SYLVIA PLATH I am a victim of introspection. SYLVIA PLATH For a time, I believed not in God nor Santa Claus, but in mermaids. They seemed as logical and possi... SYLVIA PLATH I remember that as I was writing a poem on 'Snow' when I was eight, I said aloud, 'I wis... SYLVIA PLATH Poetry, I feel, is a tyrannical discipline. You've got to go so far so fast in such a small spac... SYLVIA PLATH I saw the gooseflesh on my skin. I did not know what made it. I was not cold. Had a ghost passed ove... SYLVIA PLATH Poetry at its best can do you a lot of harm. SYLVIA PLATH I took a deep breath and listened to the old bray of my heart. I am. I am. I am. SYLVIA PLATH When you are insane, you are busy being insane - all the time. SYLVIA PLATH I hope to submit to the little pamphlet magazines here 'freelance' and perhaps shall join th... SYLVIA PLATH I want to live and feel all the shades, tones, and variations of mental and physical experience poss... SYLVIA PLATH Excellent teachers showered on to us like meteors: Biology teachers holding up human brains, English... SYLVIA PLATH And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the... SYLVIA PLATH The blood jet is poetry There is no stopping it. SYLVIA PLATH We fitted, amusingly enough, into none of the form categories of 'The Young American Couple'... SYLVIA PLATH Why do we electrocute men for murdering an individual and then pin a purple heart on them for mass s... SYLVIA PLATH Kiss me, and you will see how important I am. SYLVIA PLATH The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt. SYLVIA PLATH A little thing, like children putting flowers in my hair, can fill up the widening cracks in my self... SYLVIA PLATH I buried my head under the darkness of the pillow and pretended it was night. I couldn't see the poi... SYLVIA PLATH Let's face it: I'm scared, scared and frozen. First, I guess I'm afraid for myself... the old primit... SYLVIA PLATH Living with him is like being told a perpetual story: his mind is the biggest, most imaginative I ha... SYLVIA PLATH I do not love; I do not love anybody except myself. That is a rather shocking thing to admit. I have... SYLVIA PLATH Some things are hard to write about. After something happens to you, you go to write it down, and ei... SYLVIA PLATH Yes, my consuming desire is to mingle with road crews, sailors and soldiers, barroom regulars—to b... SYLVIA PLATH How we need another soul to cling to, another body to keep us warm. To rest and trust; to give your ... SYLVIA PLATH I want to taste and glory in each day, and never be afraid to experience pain; and never shut myself... SYLVIA PLATH Life has been some combination of fairy-tale coincidence and joie de vivre and shocks of beauty toge... SYLVIA PLATH I love people. Everybody. I love them, I think, as a stamp collector loves his collection. Every sto... SYLVIA PLATH I don’t care about anyone, and the feeling is quite obviously mutual. SYLVIA PLATH I am still so naïve; I know pretty much what I like and dislike; but please, don’t ask me who I a... SYLVIA PLATH I must get my soul back from you; I am killing my flesh without it. SYLVIA PLATH I like people too much or not at all. I've got to go down deep, to fall into people, to really know ... SYLVIA PLATH Can you understand? Someone, somewhere, can you understand me a little, love me a little? For all my... SYLVIA PLATH I desire the things that will destroy me in the end. SYLVIA PLATH And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at ... SYLVIA PLATH let me live, love, and say it well in good sentences SYLVIA PLATH I have the choice of being constantly active and happy or introspectively passive and sad. Or I can ... SYLVIA PLATH In London the day after Christmas (Boxing Day), it began to snow: my first snow in England. For five... SYLVIA PLATH My childhood landscape was not land but the end of the land - the cold, salt, running hills of the A... SYLVIA PLATH My mother's face floated to mind, a pale, reproachful moon, at her last and first visit to the a... SYLVIA PLATH Today is the first of August. It is hot, steamy and wet. It is raining. I am tempted to write a poem... SYLVIA PLATH What a man is is an arrow into the future, and what a woman is is the place the arrow shoots off fro... SYLVIA PLATH Mother believed that I should have an enormous amount of sleep, and so I was never really tired when... SYLVIA PLATH There must be quite a few things a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them. SYLVIA PLATH There must be quite a few things that a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them. SYLVIA PLATH But life is long. And it is the long run that balances the short flare of interest and passion. SYLVIA PLATH I saw the first of the 7-mile-long column appear - red and orange and green banners, 'Ban the Bo... SYLVIA PLATH Believe in some beneficent force beyond your own limited self. God, god, god: where are you? I want ... SYLVIA PLATH I want Books and Babies and Beef stews. SYLVIA PLATH If they substituted the word 'Lust' for 'Love' in the popular songs it would come nearer the truth. SYLVIA PLATH A skeptic, I would ask for consistency first of all. SYLVIA PLATH Writing, then, was a substitute for myself: if you don't love me, love my writing & love me for ... SYLVIA PLATH I thought the most beautiful thing in the world must be shadow. SYLVIA PLATH If you expect nothing from somebody you are never disappointed. SYLVIA PLATH I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every br... SYLVIA PLATH There are times when a feeling of expectancy comes to me, as if something is there, beneath the surf... SYLVIA PLATH If I have not the power to put myself in the place of other people, but must be continually burrowin... SYLVIA PLATH When I was learning to creep, my mother set me down on the beach to see what I thought of it. I craw... SYLVIA PLATH I think the sea swallowed dozens of tea sets - tossed in abandon off liners or consigned to the tide... SYLVIA PLATH Mad Girl's Love Song I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and... SYLVIA PLATH Since my woman's world is perceived greatly through the emotions and the senses, I treat it that... SYLVIA PLATH I must discipline myself. I must be imaginative and create plots, knit motives, probe dialogue - rat... SYLVIA PLATH I am inhabited by a cry.
Nightly it flaps out
Looking, with its hooks, for something to love.
I am t... SYLVIA PLATH If neurotic is wanting two mutually exclusive things at one and the same time, then I'm neurotic as... SYLVIA PLATH I wish to cry. Yet, I laugh, and my lipstick leaves a red stain like a bloody crescent moon on the t... SYLVIA PLATH I began to think vodka was my drink at last. It didn’t taste like anything, but it went straight d... SYLVIA PLATH because wherever I sat—on the deck of a ship or at a street café in Paris or Bangkok—I would be... SYLVIA PLATH I didn’t want my picture taken because I was going to cry. I didn’t know why I was going to cry,... SYLVIA PLATH There must be quite a few things a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them. SYLVIA PLATH I wanted change and excitement and to shoot off in all directions myself, like the colored arrows fr... SYLVIA PLATH What does one woman see in another than a man cannot see? Tenderness SYLVIA PLATH I looked on my stomach and saw Frieda Rebecca, white as flour with the cream that covers new babies,... SYLVIA PLATH Dying is an art, like everything else. I do it exceptionally well. I do it so it feels like hell. I ... SYLVIA PLATH That is how it stiffens, my vision of that seaside childhood. My father died; we moved inland. Where... SYLVIA PLATH We should meet in another life, we should meet in air, me and you. SYLVIA PLATH There is something demoralizing about watching two people get more and more crazy about each other, ... SYLVIA PLATH I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my eyes and all is born again. SYLVIA PLATH I think writers are the most narcissistic people. Well, I musn't say this, I like many of them, a gr... SYLVIA PLATH Everybody had to go to some college or other. A business college, a junior college, a state college,... SYLVIA PLATH There must be quite a few things a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them. Whenever I'm ... SYLVIA PLATH When they asked me what I wanted to be I said I didn't know. SYLVIA PLATH How we need that security. How we need another soul to cling to, another body to keep us warm. To re... SYLVIA PLATH So many people are shut up tight inside themselves like boxes, yet they would open up, unfolding qui... SYLVIA PLATH I am terrified by this dark thing That sleeps in me; All day I feel its soft, feathery tur... SYLVIA PLATH A baby! I hated babies. I, who for two and a half years had been the center of a tender universe, fe... SYLVIA PLATH One should be able to control and manipulate experiences with an informed and intelligent mind. SYLVIA PLATH Remember, remember, this is now, and now, and now. Live it, feel it, cling to it. I want to become a... SYLVIA PLATH That afternoon my mother had brought me the roses. "Save them for my funeral," I'd said. SYLVIA PLATH My mother had taught shorthand and typing to support us since my father died, and secretly she hated... SYLVIA PLATH After all, I wasn't crippled in any way, I just studied too hard, I didn't know when to stop. SYLVIA PLATH I am too pure for you or anyone. From the poem "Fever 103°", 20 October 1962 SYLVIA PLATH If the moon smiled, she would resemble you. You leave the same impression Of something be... SYLVIA PLATH I love my rejection slips. They show me I try. SYLVIA PLATH I think that personal experience is very important, but certainly it shouldn't be a kind of shut... SYLVIA PLATH The thought that I might kill myself formed in my mind coolly as a tree or a flower. SYLVIA PLATH How frail the human heart must be―a mirrored pool of thought. SYLVIA PLATH I may never be happy, but tonight I am content. Nothing more than an empty house, the warm hazy wear... SYLVIA PLATH Ennui Tea leaves thwart those who court catastrophe, designing futures where nothing... SYLVIA PLATH I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am. SYLVIA PLATH Ever since I was small I loved feeling somebody comb my hair. It made me go all sleepy and peaceful. SYLVIA PLATH If you love her", I said, "you'll love somebody else someday. SYLVIA PLATH I don't know how long I kept at it... I felt reasonably safe, streched out on the floor, and la... SYLVIA PLATH The next five months are grim ones. I always feel sorry to have the summertime change, with the dark... SYLVIA PLATH Freedom is not of use to those who do not know how to employ it. SYLVIA PLATH There is nothing like puking with somebody to make you into old friends. SYLVIA PLATH What does one woman see in another than a man cannot see? Tenderness SYLVIA PLATH Doing all the little tricky things it takes to grow up, step by step, into an anxious and unsettling... SYLVIA PLATH I love him to hell and back and heaven and back, and have and do and will SYLVIA PLATH My body is a pebble to them, they tend it as water tends to the pebbles it must run over, smoothing ... SYLVIA PLATH ...I still expected to see Doreen's body lying there in the pool of vomit like an ugly, concrete tes... SYLVIA PLATH I felt like a race horse in a world without racetracks or a champion college footballer suddenly con... SYLVIA PLATH Nothing stinks like a pile of unpublished writing. SYLVIA PLATH Tree and Stone glittered, without shadows.My finger-length grew lucent as glass.I started to bud lik... SYLVIA PLATH If I didn't think, I'd be much happier; if I didn't have any sex organs, I wouldn't waver on the bri... SYLVIA PLATH The human mind is so limited it can only build an arbitrary heaven — and usually the physical comf... SYLVIA PLATH I felt dumb and subdued. Every time I tried to concentrate, my mind glided off, like a skater, into ... SYLVIA PLATH So much working, reading, thinking, living to do! A lifetime is not long enough. SYLVIA PLATH I want to write because I have the urge to excel in one medium of translation and expression of life... SYLVIA PLATH How can you be so many women to so many strange people, oh you strange girl? SYLVIA PLATH There must be quite a few things that a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them. SYLVIA PLATH I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make... SYLVIA PLATH I think I may well be a Jew. SYLVIA PLATH With me, the present is forever, and forever is always shifting, flowing, melting. This second is li... SYLVIA PLATH Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one’s he... SYLVIA PLATH There I went again, building up a glamorous picture of a man who would love me passionately the minu... SYLVIA PLATH I thought the most beautiful thing in the world must be shadow, the million moving shapes and cul-de... SYLVIA PLATH The floor seemed wonderfully solid. It was comforting to know I had fallen and could fall no farther... SYLVIA PLATH I didn't know why I was going to cry, but I knew that if anybody spoke to me or looked at me too clo... SYLVIA PLATH I couldn’t see the point of getting up. I had nothing to look forward to. SYLVIA PLATH But when it came right down to it, the skin of my wrist looked so white and defensless that I couldn... SYLVIA PLATH I felt wise and cynical as all hell. SYLVIA PLATH I was supposed to be having the time of my life. SYLVIA PLATH That’s one of the reasons I never wanted to get married. The last thing I wanted was infinite secu... 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 When they asked me what I wanted to be I said I didn’t know. "Oh, sure you know," the photogr... SYLVIA PLATH The trouble was, I had been inadequate all along, I simply hadn't thought about it. SYLVIA PLATH The silence depressed me. It wasn't the silence of silence. It was my own silence. SYLVIA PLATH What a man wants is a mate and what a woman wants is infinite security,’ and, ‘What a man is is ... SYLVIA PLATH So I began to think maybe it was true that when you were married and had children it was like being ... SYLVIA PLATH My mother said the cure for thinking too much about yourself was helping somebody who was worse off ... SYLVIA PLATH I Am Vertical But I would rather be horizontal. I am not a tree with my root in the ... SYLVIA PLATH The slime of all my yesterdays rots in the hollow of my skull. SYLVIA PLATH What did my arms do before they held you? SYLVIA PLATH I think my poems immediately come out of the sensuous and emotional experiences I have. SYLVIA PLATH Is anyone anywhere happy? SYLVIA PLATH I guess I should have reacted the way most of the other girls were, but I couldn't get myself to rea... SYLVIA PLATH I didn't want my picture taken because I was going to cry. I didn't know why I was going to cry, but... SYLVIA PLATH What is so real as the cry of a child? A rabbit's cry may be wilder But it has no soul. SYLVIA PLATH You will never win anyone through pity. You must create the right kind of dream, the sober, adult ki... SYLVIA PLATH It is as if my life were magically run by two electric currents: joyous positive and despairing nega... SYLVIA PLATH Hastanenin arazisi yeni yağmış karla örtülüydü -bu bir Noel serpintisi değil, ocak ayının ... SYLVIA PLATH