#plath

Sylvia Plath was just a month and a half older than I, and when she committed suicide I was only 30 - and very shocked and sorry. I never knew her personally. ↗

— Anne Stevenson

#half #her #i #just #knew

Some things are hard to write about. After something happens to you, you go to write it down, and either you over dramatize it, or underplay it, exaggerate the wrong parts or ignore the important ones. At any rate, you never write it quite the way you want to. ↗

— Sylvia Plath

#plath #sylvia #writing #wrong

I need more than anything right now what is, of course, most impossible, someone to love me, to be with me at night when I wake up in shuddering horror and fear of the cement tunnels leading down to the shock room, to comfort me with an assurance that no psychiatrist can quite manage to convey. ↗

— Sylvia Plath

#fear #hope #love #sylvia-plath #the-bell-jar

The thought that I might kill myself formed in my mind coolly as a tree or a flower. ↗

— Sylvia Plath

#death #suicide #sylvia-plath #thought #death

To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is a bad dream. ↗

— Sylvia Plath

#ted-hughes #the-bell-jar #dreams

from private flood. / Drama of each season / plots doom from above, / yet all allergic reason / moves to our minor love ↗

— Sylvia Plath

#trio-of-love-songs #love

With that strange knowing that comes over me, like a clairvoyance, I know that I am sure of myself and my enormous and alarmingly timeless love for you; which will always be. ↗

— Sylvia Plath

#love #plath #love

Life was not to be sitting in hot amorphic leisure in my backyard idly writing or not writing, as the spirit moved me. It was, instead, running madly, in a crowded schedule, in a squirrel cage of busy people. Working, living, dancing, dreaming, talking, kissing- singing, laughing, learning. ↗

— Sylvia Plath

#kissing #life #sylvia-plath #business

With me, the present is forever, and forever is always shifting, flowing, melting. This second is life. And when it is gone it is dead. But you can't start over with each new second. You have to judge by what is dead. It's like quicksand... hopeless from the start. ↗

— Sylvia Plath

#life

My mind is killing me” — The Glass Child, Stuck In My Mind ↗

— Charlotte Eriksson

#lyrics-of-the-heart #music #my-mind #stuck-in-my-mind #sylvia-plath