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Sylvia Plath Quotes - Page 23

All Quotes Age Art Bones Chaos Character Children College Cooking Darkness Depression Desire Discipline Doubt Earth Emptiness Fate Fear Feelings Feminism Fighting Giving Gold Happiness Hate Heart Hell Home Hurt Illness Inspirational Joy Kissing Life Loneliness Love Love Life Lying Madness Mask Mental Illness Moon Morning Pain Past Rain Reading Rejection Responsibility Running Sad Sadness Sickness Silence Silver Skins Sleep Soul Spring Summer Understanding Vision Waiting Wall Water Winter Writing

They had to call and call And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.

They had to call and call And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.

Pearls, Worms, Sticky

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

There I went again, building up a glamorous picture of a man who would love me passionately the minute he met me, and all out of a few prosy nothings.

Men, Building Up, Bell Jar

Sylvia Plath (2016). “The Bell Jar”, p.29, Hamilton Books

I think writers are the most narcissistic people. Well, I musn't say this, I like many of them, a great many of my friends are writers.

Thinking, People, Narcissistic

A black-sharded lady keeps me in a parrot cage.

Black, Cages, Parrots

Sylvia Plath (2010). “The Colossus”, p.71, Faber & Faber

It is best to meet in a cul-de-sac, A palace of velvet With windows of mirrors. There one is safe, There are no family photographs, No rings through the nose, no cries.

Mirrors, Palaces, Velvet

Sylvia Plath (2010). “Winter Trees”, p.7, Faber & Faber

If I was going to fall, I would hang on to my small comforts, at least, for as long as I possibly could.

Fall, Long, Comfort

Sylvia Plath (2016). “The Bell Jar”, p.107, Hamilton Books

I decided I would put off the novel until I had gone to Europe and had a lover, and that I would never learn a word of shorthand. If I never learned shorthand I would never have to use it.

Europe, Gone, Use

Sylvia Plath (2016). “The Bell Jar”, p.62, Hamilton Books

I was my own woman. The next step was to find the proper sort of man.

Men, Next Steps, My Own

Sylvia Plath (2016). “The Bell Jar”, p.115, Hamilton Books

I am inhabited by a cry. Nightly it flaps out Looking, with its hooks, for something to love.

Hook, Cry

Sylvia Plath (2010). “Ariel: The Restored Edition”, p.35, Faber & Faber

And I, stepping from this skin Of old bandages, boredoms, old faces Step to you from the black car of Lethe, Pure as a baby.

Baby, Boredom, Car

Sylvia Plath (2010). “Ariel: The Restored Edition”, p.64, Faber & Faber

I like you, but not too much. I don’t want to like anybody too much.

I Like You, Want, Too Much

Sylvia Plath (2007). “The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath”, p.18, Anchor

As I lay on my back in bed staring up at the blank, white ceiling the stillness seemed to grow bigger and bigger until I felt my eardrums would burst with it.

White, Bed, Ceilings

Sylvia Plath (2016). “The Bell Jar”, p.18, Hamilton Books

Whenever I'm sad I'm going to die, or so nervous I can't sleep, or in love with somebody I won't be seeing for a week, I slump down just so far and then I say: 'I'll go take a hot bath.

Sleep, Baths, Slumps

Sylvia Plath (2016). “The Bell Jar”, p.12, Hamilton Books

What I hate is the thought of being under a man's thumb," I had told Doctor Nolan. "A man doesn't have a worry in the world, while I've got a baby hanging over my head like a big stick, to keep me in line.

Baby, Hate, Men

Sylvia Plath (2016). “The Bell Jar”, p.114, Hamilton Books

O heart, such disorganization!

Heart, Disorganization

Sylvia Plath (2011). “Selected Poems of Sylvia Plath”, p.38, Faber & Faber

I started adding up all the things I couldn't do.

Sylvia Plath (2016). “The Bell Jar”, p.40, Hamilton Books

Bright beads of red are rising through the ink, Hearts-blood bubbles smearing out into the black stream

Heart, Blood, Black

Although, I admit, I desire, Occasionally, some backtalk From the mute sky, I can't honestly complain: A certain minor light may still Lean incandescent Out of kitchen table or chair As if a celestial burning took Possession of the most obtuse objects now and then --

Light, Sky, Kitchen

The silence drew off, baring the pebbles and shells and all the tatty wreckage of my life.

Silence, Shells, Pebbles

Sylvia Plath (2016). “The Bell Jar”, p.86, Hamilton Books

I am silver and exact.I have no preconceptions.

Silver, Preconceptions

Sylvia Plath (2015). “Collected Poems”, p.333, Faber & Faber

I couldn’t see the point of getting up. I had nothing to look forward to.

Looks, Bell Jar

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

Don't talk to me about the world needing cheerful stuff! What the person out of Belsen physical or psychological wants is nobody saying the birdies still go tweet-tweet, but the full knowledge that somebody else has been there and knows the worst, just what it is like.

Cheerful, Want, Stuff

Sylvia Plath, Aurelia Schober Plath (1975). “Letters home: correspondence, 1950-1963”, HarperCollins Publishers

But when I took up my pen, my hand made big, jerky letters like those of a child, and the lines sloped down the page from left to right horizontally, as if they were loops of string lying on the paper, and someone had come along and blown them askew.

Children, Lying, Hands

I could feel the winter shaking my bones and banging my teeth together.

Winter, Together, Teeth

Sylvia Plath (2016). “The Bell Jar”, p.25, Hamilton Books

Ever since I was small I loved feeling somebody comb my hair. It made me go all sleepy & peaceful.

Hair, Peaceful, Feelings

Sylvia Plath (2016). “The Bell Jar”, p.45, Hamilton Books

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