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God has to remind us this isn't heaven by a long shot, so he increases the radios and lethal flies.

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
Shots
Radio
Radios
Increase
Lethal
Heaven
Flies
Long
Increases
Remind
Shot

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Dancing is the normal prelude to intercourse.
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I think I may well be a Jew.
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I have the one person I could ever love in this world. Now I must work to be a person worthy of that.
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I'm happier writing about doctors than I would have been being one.
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I like people, but to learn about one individual always appeals to me more than anything.
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Some things are hard to write about. After something happens to you, you go to write it down, and either you over dramatize it, or underplay it, exaggerate the wrong parts or ignore the important ones. At any rate, you never write it quite the way you want to.
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Frustrated? Yes. Why? Because it is impossible for me to be God — or the universal woman-and-man — or anything much. I am what I feel and think and do. I want to express my being as fully as I can because I somewhere picked up the idea that I could justify my being alive that way.
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I could never be a complete scholar or a complete housewife ora completewriter: Imustcombinea little of all, and thereby be imperfect in all.
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A psychiatrist is the god of our age. But they cost money.
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Now I am silent, hate Up to my neck, Thick, thick. I do not speak.
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Is there no way out of the mind?
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I am not cruel, only truthful.
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But I am I now and so many other millions are so irretrievably their own special variety of 'I' that I can hardly bear to think of it. I: how firm a letter how reassuring the three strokes: one vertical, proud and assertive, and then the two short horizontal lines in quick, smug succession. The pen scratching on the paper…I…I…I…I…I…I.
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…I hate myself for not being able to go downstairs naturally and seek comfort in numbers. I hate myself for having to sit here and be torn between I know not what within me.
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I am learning peacefulness, lying by myself quietly, as the light lies on these white walls, this bed, these hands. I am nobody I have nothing to do with explosions.
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... stop trying to get me to write about 'decent courageous people' -- read the Ladies' Home Journal for those! ... I believe in going through and facing the worst, not hiding from it.
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I was my own woman. The next step was to find the proper sort of man.
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The trouble was, I had been inadequate all along, I simply hadn't thought about it.
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Joy:show joy & enjoy: then others will be joyful.
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I said: I must remember this, being small.
Sylvia Plath