I am flushed and warm.
I think I may be enormous,
I am so stupidly happy,
My wellingtons
Squelching and squelching through the beautiful red.

Sylvia Plath

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Love, love,
I have hung our cave with roses.

Sylvia Plath

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I have let things slip, a thirty-year~old cargo boat
Stubbornly hanging on to my name and address.

Sylvia Plath

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I felt the first man I slept with must be intelligent, so I could respect him.

Sylvia Plath

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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.

Sylvia Plath

Tags: writing sickness plath

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So many people are shut up tight inside themselves like boxes, yet they would open up, unfolding quite wonderfully, if only you were interested in them."

(Initiation)

Sylvia Plath

Tags: confidence loneliness shyness

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We'll act as if all this were a bad dream."

A bad dream.

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

A bad dream.

I remembered everything.

I remembered the cadavers and Doreen and the story of the fig tree and Marco's diamond and the sailor on the Common and Doctor Gordon's wall-eyed nurse and the broken thermometers and the Negro with his two kinds of beans and the twenty pounds I gained on insulin and the rock that bulged between sky and sea like a gray skull.

Maybe forgetfulness, like a kind snow, would numb and cover them.

But they were part of me. They were my landscape.

Sylvia Plath

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I felt myself melting into the shadows like the negative of a person I'd never seen before in my life.

Sylvia Plath

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But I grow old and I forget your name. (I think I made you up inside my head.)

Sylvia Plath

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I am I am I am.

Sylvia Plath

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