Quote

What did my arms do before they held you?

Sylvia Plath

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

Sylvia Plath
Age: 30 †
Born: 1932
Born: October 27
Died: 1963
Died: February 11
Autobiographer
Diarist
Essayist
Novelist
Poet
Writer
Boston
Massachusetts
Victoria Lucas
Sylvia Plath Hughes
Arms
Held

More quotes by Sylvia Plath

Image
You are the one. Solid the spaces lean on, envious. You are the baby in the barn.
Sylvia Plath
Image
You walked in, laughing, tears welling confused, mingling in your throat. How can you be so many women to so many people, oh you strange girl?
Sylvia Plath
Image
After all, we are nothing more or less than we choose to reveal.
Sylvia Plath
Image
Now I am silent, hate Up to my neck, Thick, thick. I do not speak.
Sylvia Plath
Image
But when I took up my pen, my hand made big, jerky letters like those of a child, and the lines sloped down the page from left to right horizontally, as if they were loops of string lying on the paper, and someone had come along and blown them askew.
Sylvia Plath
Image
What I didn't say was that each time I picked up a German dictionary or a German book, the very sight of those dense, black, barbed-wire letters made my mind shut like a clam.
Sylvia Plath
Image
To learn and think to think and live to live and learn: this always, with new insight, new understanding, and new love.
Sylvia Plath
Image
The slime of all my yesterdays rots in the hollow of my skull.
Sylvia Plath
Image
One thing, I try to be honest. And what is revealed is often rather hideously unflattering.
Sylvia Plath
Image
The moon, also, is merciless: she would drag me Cruelly, being barren. Her radiance scathes me. Or perhaps I have caught her.
Sylvia Plath
Image
Love set you going like a fat gold watch. The midwife slapped your footsoles, and your bald cry Took its place among the elements.
Sylvia Plath
Image
Don't let the wicked city get you down.
Sylvia Plath
Image
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
Image
Over coffee and orange juice the embryonic suicide brightens visibly.
Sylvia Plath
Image
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 Plath
Image
I started adding up all the things I couldn't do.
Sylvia Plath
Image
I think I am worthwhile just because I have optical nerves and can try to put down what they perceive. What a fool!
Sylvia Plath
Image
Oh what a poet I will flay myself into.
Sylvia Plath
Image
Not being perfect hurts.
Sylvia Plath
Image
Sometimes I feel like I'm not solid. I'm hollow. There's nothing behind my eyes. I'm a negative of a person. All I want is blackness, blackness and silence.
Sylvia Plath