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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 Plath

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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
Mind
Concentrate
Time
Dumb
Like
Tried
Large
Empty
Absently
Space
Glided
Felt
Subdued
Every
Skater

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If every soldier refused to take arms ... there would be no wars but no one has the courage to be the first to live according to Christ and Socrates, because in a world of opportunists they would be martyred.
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I felt the mask crumple, the great poisonous store of corrosive ashes begin to spew out of my mouth.
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Eternity bores me, I never wanted it.
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I think my poems immediately come out of the sensuous and emotional experiences I have, but I must say I cannot sympathise with these cries from the heart that are informed by nothing except a needle or a knife, or whatever it is.
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Then I thought, No, I broke it myself. I broke it on purpose to pay myself back for being such a heel.
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…beating time along the edge of thought.
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Then I decided I would spend the summer writing a novel. That would fix a lot of people.
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How frail the human heart must be - a mirrored pool of thought.
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I took a deep breath and listened to the old bray of my heart. I am. I am. I am.
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I am too pure for you or anyone.
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There must be quite a few things that a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them.
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I desire the things that will destroy me in the end.
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Maybe forgetfulness, like a kind snow, should numb and cover them. But they were a part of me. They were my landscape.
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The sickness rolled through me in great waves. After each wave it would fade away and leave me limp as a wet leaf and shivering all over and then I would feel it rising up in me again, and the glittering white torture chamber tiles under my feet and over my head and all four sides closed in and squeezed me to pieces.
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There is a certain unique and strange delight about walking down an empty street alone. There is an off-focus light cast by the moon, and the streetlights are part of the spotlight apparatus on a bare stage set up for you to walk through. You get a feeling of being listened to, so you talk aloud, softly, to see how it sounds.
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We should meet in another life, we should meet in air, me and you.
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