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Every woman adores a Fascist, The boot in the face, the brute Brute heart of a brute like you.

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
Face
Adores
Faces
Boot
Woman
Fascist
Heart
Brute
Every
Fascists
Like
Brutes
Adore
Boots

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I feel terribly vulnerable and 'not-myself' when I'm not writing.
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This seemed a dreary and wasted life for a girl with fifteen years of straight A's, but I knew that's what marriage was like, because cook and clean and wash was just what Buddy Willard's mother did from morning till night, and she was the wife of a university professor and had been a private school teacher herself.
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So I kiss him, and there is the great dark sea ahead.
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She stared at her reflection in the glossed shop windows as if to make sure, moment by moment, that she continued to exist.
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And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter— they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long.
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There is a certain clinical satisfaction in seeing just how bad things can get.
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I am I-I am powerful, but to what extent? I am I.
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There I went again, building up a glamorous picture of a man who would love me passionately the minute he met me, and all out of a few prosy nothings.
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Ash, ash —- You poke and stir. Flesh, bone, there is nothing there—— A cake of soap, A wedding ring, A gold filling. Herr God, Herr Lucifer Beware Beware. Out of the ash I rise with my red hair And I eat men like air.
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I need the reality of other people, work, to fulfill myself. Must never become a mere mother and housewife.
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I knew chemistry would be worse, because I'd seen a big card of the ninety-odd elements hung up in the chemistry lab, and all the perfectly good words like gold and silver and cobalt and aluminum were shortened to ugly abbreviations with different decimal numbers after them.
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After all, we are nothing more or less than we choose to reveal.
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I am sure there are things that can't be cured by a good bath but I can't think of one.
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I think I am worthwhile just because I have optical nerves and can try to put down what they perceive. What a fool!
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Please don’t expect me to always be good and kind and loving. There are times when I will be cold and thoughtless and hard to understand.
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And there's the fallacy of existence: the idea that one could be happy forever and age with a given situation or series of accomplishments.
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I do not love I do not love anybody except myself. That is a rather shocking thing to admit.
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