And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.

-- from "Lady Lazarus", written 23-29 October 1962

Sylvia Plath

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I knew you'd decide to be all right again.

Sylvia Plath

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The first time I saw a fingerbowl was at the home of my benefactress. [...]
The water had a few cherry blossoms in it, and I thought it must be some clear sort of Japanese after-dinner soup and ate every bit of it, including the crisp little blossoms.

Sylvia Plath

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Yes, I was infatuated with you: I am still. No one has ever heightened such a keen capacity of physical sensation in me. I cut you out because I couldn't stand being a passing fancy. Before I give my body, I must give my thoughts, my mind, my dreams. And you weren't having any of those.

Sylvia Plath

Mots clés love dreams infatuation thoughts sensation

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Why the hell are we conditioned into the smooth strawberry-and-cream Mother-Goose-world, Alice-in-Wonderland fable, only to be broken on the wheel as we grow older and become aware of ourselves as individuals with a dull responsibility in life?

Sylvia Plath

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Please let him come, and give me the resilience

Sylvia Plath

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I, love, I am the pure acetylene virgin attended by roses.

Sylvia Plath

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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

Mots clés life kissing sylvia-plath journals

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It was like the first time i saw a cadaver. For weeks afterward the cadavers head, or what was left of it - floated up behind my eggs and bacon at breakfast and in the face of Buddy Willard, who was responsible for my seeing it in the first place, and pretty soon I felt as though I were carrying that cadavers head around with me on a string, like some black, noseless balloon stinking of vinegar.

Sylvia Plath

Mots clés the-bell-jar

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Why do we electrocute men for murdering an individual and then pin a purple heart on them for mass slaughter of someone arbitrarily labeled “enemy?

Sylvia Plath

Mots clés murder war purple-heart

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