Everything people did seemed so silly, because they only died in the end.

Sylvia Plath

Aller à la citation

---

The woman is perfected.
Her dead
Body wears the smile of accomplishment,
The illusion of a Greek necessity
Flows in the scrolls of her toga,
Her bare
Feet seem to be saying:
We have come so far, it is over.
Each dead child coiled, a white serpent,
One at each little
Pitcher of milk, now empty.
She has folded
Them back into her body as petals
Of a rose close when the garden
Stiffens and odors bleed
From the sweet, deep throats of the night flower.
The moon has nothing to be sad about,
Staring from her hood of bone.
She is used to this sort of thing.
Her blacks crackle and drag.

Sylvia Plath

Mots clés edge-by-sylvia-plath

Aller à la citation

---

Even the apostles were tentmakers...

Sylvia Plath

Aller à la citation

---

Let me fly with you.

Sylvia Plath

Aller à la citation

---

Why can’t I try on different lives, like dresses, to see which fits best and is more becoming?

Sylvia Plath

Aller à la citation

---

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 thermometer 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, should numb and cover them. But they were a part of me. They were my landscape.

Sylvia Plath

Aller à la citation

---

The sun, emerged from its gray shrouds of cloud, shone with a summer brilliance on the untouched slopes. Pausing in my work to overlook that pristine expanse, I felt the same profound thrill it gives me to see the trees and grassland waist-high under flood water—as if the usual order of the world had shifted slightly, and entered a new phase.

Sylvia Plath

Mots clés feels

Aller à la citation

---

I saw their mouths going up and down without a sound, as if they were sitting on the deck of a departing ship, stranding me in the middle of a huge silence.

Sylvia Plath

Aller à la citation

---

When they asked some old Roman philosopher or other how he wanted to die, he said he would open his veins in a warm bath. I thought it would be easy, lying in the tub and seeing the redness flower from my wrists, flush after flush through the clear water, till I sank to sleep under a surface gaudy of poppies.

But when it came right down to it, the sink of my wrist looked so white and defenseless that I couldn't do it. It was as if what I wanted to kill wasn't in that skin or the thin blue pulse that jumped under my thumb, but somewhere else, deeper, more secret, and a whole lot harder to get at.

Sylvia Plath

Mots clés death suicide

Aller à la citation

---

«Credo che mi piacerebbe definirmi la ragazza che voleva essere Dio.»

Sylvia Plath

Aller à la citation

---

« ; premier précédent
Page 41 de 68.
suivant dernier » ;

---

---