Quotes By Author: sylvia plath
-
“Feel oddly barren. My sickness is when words draw in their horns and the physical world refuses to be ordered, recreated, arranged and selected. I am a victim of it then, not a master.”
“brave love, dreamnot of staunching such strict flame, but come,lean to my wound; burn on, burn on.”
“This is newness: every little tawdryObstacle glass-wrapped and peculiar,Glinting and clinking in a saint’s falsetto. Only youDon’t know what to make of the sudden slippiness,The blind, white, awful, inaccessible slant.There’s no getting up it by the words you know.No getting up by elephant or wheel or shoe.We have only come to look. You are too newTo want the world in a glass hat.”
“I am solitary as grass. What is it I miss?Shall I ever find it, whatever it is?”
“What I fear most, I think, is the death of the imagination.”
“I have stitched life into me like a rare organ”
“I’ll never speak to God again.”
“The thought that I might kill myself formed in my mind coolly as a tree or a flower.”
“I am not cruel —only truthful.”
“The truth comes to me. The truth loves me.”
“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.”
“I wanted change and excitement and to shoot off in all directions myself, like the colored arrows from a Fourth of July rocket.”
“How we need that security. How we need another soul to cling to, another body to keep us warm. To rest and trust; to give your soul in confidence: I need this. I need someone to pour myself into.”