Mother of otherness,
Eat me.
--from "Poem for a Birthday - Who", written 1960
Remember, remember, this is now, and now, and now. Live it, feel it, cling to it. I want to become acutely aware of all I’ve taken for granted.
Sylvia PlathTags: life
I felt dumb and subdued. Every time I tried to concentrate, my mind glided off, like a skater, into a large empty space, and pirouetted there, absently.
Sylvia PlathIf neurotic is wanting two mutually exclusive things at one and the same time, then I'm neurotic as hell. I'll be flying back and forth between one mutually exclusive thing and another for the rest of my days.
Sylvia PlathTags: neurosis
There must be quite a few things that a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them.
Sylvia PlathTags: baths
I have the choice of being constantly active and happy or introspectively passive and sad. Or I can go mad by ricocheting in between.
Sylvia PlathTags: mood-swings
Backward we traveled to reclaim the day
Before we fell, like Icarus, undone;
All we find are altars in decay
And profane words scrawled black across the sun.
--From the poem "Doom of the Exiles", written 16 April 1954
let me live, love, and say it well in good sentences
Sylvia PlathTags: writing
because wherever I sat—on the deck of a ship or at a street café in Paris or Bangkok—I would be sitting under the same glass bell jar, stewing in my own sour air.
Sylvia PlathTags: depression
I do not love; I do not love anybody except myself. That is a rather shocking thing to admit. I have none of the selfless love of my mother. I have none of the plodding, practical love. . . . . I am, to be blunt and concise, in love only with myself, my puny being with its small inadequate breasts and meager, thin talents. I am capable of affection for those who reflect my own world.
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