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@sylviaplathings
Why the hell are we conditioned into the smooth strawberry-and-cream Alice-in-Wonderland fable, only to be broken on the wheel as we grow older and become aware of ourselves as individuals with a dull responsibility in life?
Sylvia Plath
The hardest thing is to live richly in the present without letting it be tainted out of fear for the future or regret for the past.
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
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
I know pretty much what I like and dislike; but please, don’t ask me who I am.
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.
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
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
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
I am afraid. I am not solid, but hollow. I feel behind my eyes a numb, paralyzed cavern, a pit of hell, a mimicking nothingness.
Sylvia Plath
Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes talk about their relationship c. 1960.
Sylvia Plath, c. 1950s
When you give someone your whole heart and he doesn't want it, you cannot take it back. It’s gone forever.
Sylvia Plath
On this day 51 years ago, Sylvia Plath committed suicide at her home in London, England. She was 30 years old.
"We have come so far, it is over."
- from Plath's final poem, Edge
R.I.P. Sylvia Plath
(October 27, 1932 - February 11, 1963)
Why can’t I try on different lives, like dresses, to see which one fits me?
Sylvia Plath
A letter written by Sylvia Plath to a friend.
