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Sylvia Plath Quotes - Page 17

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But when it came right down to it, the skin of my wrist looked so white and defensless that I couldn't do it. It was as if what I wanted to kill wasn't in that skin or the thin blue pulse that jumped under my thumb, but

But when it came right down to it, the skin of my wrist looked so white and defensless that I couldn't do it. It was as if what I wanted to kill wasn't in that skin or the thin blue pulse that jumped under my thumb, but somewhere else, deeper, more secret, and a whole lot harder to get.

Truth, Blue, Somewhere Else

Sylvia Plath (2016). “The Bell Jar”, p.75, Hamilton Books

Sometimes I nursed starfish alive in jam jars of seawater and watched them grow back lost arms. On this day, this awful birthday of otherness, my rival, somebody else, I flung the starfish against a stone. Let it perish.

Jam, Alive, Rivals

Sylvia Plath (2013). “Johnny Panic and the Bible of Dreams: and other prose writings”, p.95, Faber & Faber

When they asked me what I wanted to be I said I didn't know.

Bell Jar, Said, Wanted

Sylvia Plath (2016). “The Bell Jar”, p.54, Hamilton Books

I am disabused of all faith, and see too clearly.

Sylvia Plath (2013). “The Journals of Sylvia Plath”, p.233, Anchor

A dispassionate white sun shone at the summit of the sky. I wanted to hone myself on it till I grew saintly and thin and essential as the blade of a knife.

Knives, Sky, White

Sylvia Plath (2016). “The Bell Jar”, p.52, Hamilton Books

I believe that one should be able to control and manipulate experiences, even the most terrifying, like madness, being tortured...with an informed and intelligent mind.

Believe, Intelligent, Mind

And I, love, am a pathological liar.

Liars, Pathological Liar

Sylvia Plath (2015). “Collected Poems”, p.186, Faber & Faber

Yes, there is joy, fulfillment and companionship but the loneliness of the soul in its appalling self-consciousness is horrible and overpowering.

Loneliness, Self, Joy

Sylvia Plath (2007). “The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath”, p.31, Anchor

You have to be able to make a real creative life for Yourself, before you can expect anyone Else to provide one ready-made for you.

Inspirational, Real, Creative

Sylvia Plath (2013). “The Journals of Sylvia Plath”, p.85, Anchor

I laid my face to the smooth face of the marble and howled my loss into the cold salt rain.

Rain, Loss, Salt

Sylvia Plath (2008). “The Bell Jar”, p.124, Faber & Faber

I am but one more drop in the great sea of matter, defined, with the ability to realize my existence.

Sea, Matter, Realizing

Sylvia Plath (2013). “The Journals of Sylvia Plath”, p.18, Anchor

I guess they call it suicide, but I'm to full to swallow my pride I can't stand losing you The Police Dying is an art, like everything else. I do it exceptionally well.

Suicide, Art, Suicidal

Dancing is the normal prelude to intercourse.

Dancing, Normal, Prelude

Sylvia Plath (2013). “The Journals of Sylvia Plath”, p.10, Anchor

There is no life higher than the grasstops

Higher

Sylvia Plath (2015). “Collected Poems”, p.148, Faber & Faber

I may never be happy, but tonight I am content.

Inspirational, Happiness, Tonight

Sylvia Plath (2007). “The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath”, p.8, Anchor

It never occurred to me to say no.

Sylvia Plath (2016). “The Bell Jar”, p.51, Hamilton Books

I think that as far as language goes I'm an American, I'm afraid, my accent is American, my way of talk is an American way of talk, I'm an old-fashioned American. That's probably one of the reasons why I'm in England now and why I'll always stay in England.

Thinking, Way, England

Source: www.english.illinois.edu

I have been holding a dialogue with myself and girding myself to stand fast without running.

Running, Dialogue, Has Beens

Sylvia Plath (2013). “The Journals of Sylvia Plath”, p.204, Anchor

This is newness: every little tawdry Obstacle glass-wrapped and peculiar, Glinting and clinking in a saint's falsetto. Only you Don'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 new To want the world in a glass hat.

Shoes, Elephants, White

Sylvia Plath (2015). “Collected Poems”, p.156, Faber & Faber

I buried my head under the darkness of the pillow and pretended it was night. I couldn't see the point of getting up. I had nothing to look forward to.

Night, Darkness, Looks

Sylvia Plath (2016). “The Bell Jar”, p.61, Hamilton Books

If I didn't think, I'd be much happier; if I didn't have any sex organs, I wouldn't waver on the brink of nervous emotion and tears all the time.

Sex, Thinking, Tears

Sylvia Plath (2013). “The Journals of Sylvia Plath”, p.15, Anchor

I wondered why I couldn't go the whole way doing what I should any more. This made me sad and tired. Then I wondered why I couldn't go the whole way doing what I shouldn't, the way Doreen did, and this made me even sadder and more tired.

Depression, Tired, Way

Sylvia Plath (2008). “The Bell Jar”, p.24, Faber & Faber

Last year a friend went dark in a nervous city alone, the sea flashing against his glasses, the sea sorted out at last in his inner ear so he could leave this world as he'd entered it through the undependable irrational influence of water. -Kevin Jeffery Clark It was as if what I wanted to kill wasn't in that skin or the thin blue pulse that jumped under my thumb, but somewhere else, deeper, more secret, and a whole lot harder to get at.

Suicidal, Dark, Sea

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.

Want, Photographer, Said

Sylvia Plath (2016). “The Bell Jar”, p.54, Hamilton Books

And I am aware of my heart: it opens and closes Its bowl of red blooms out of sheer love of me.

Heart, Red, Bowls

Sylvia Plath (2015). “Collected Poems”, Faber & Faber

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