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I started adding up all the things I couldn't do.

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
Adding
Couldn
Started
Things

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See, the darkness is leaking from the cracks. I cannot contain it. I cannot contain my life.
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I don't know what started me, I just wrote poetry from the time was quite small. I guess I liked nursery rhymes and I guess I thought I could do the same thing. I wrote my first poem, my first published poem, when I was eight-and-a-half years old. It came out in The Boston Traveller and from then on, I suppose, I've been a bit of a professional.
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What did my arms do before they held you?
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Nothing is real except the present, and already, I feel the weight of centuries smothering me. Some girl a hundred years ago once lived as I do. And she is dead. I am the present, but I know I, too, will pass. The high moment, the burning flash, come and are gone, continuous quicksand. And I don’t want to die.
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I do not know who I am tonight.
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I am I-I am powerful, but to what extent? I am I.
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I like people too much or not at all.
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Sometimes I nursed starfish alive in jam jars of seawater and watched them grow back lost arms. On this day, this awful birthday of otherness, my rival, somebody else, I flung the starfish against a stone. Let it perish.
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I couldn’t see the point of getting up. I had nothing to look forward to.
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I want to kill myself, to escape from responsiblity, to crawl abjectly back into the womb.
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The hardest thing, I think, is to live richly in the present, without letting it be tainted & spoiled out of fear for the future or regret for a badly-managed past.
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Good to know that if I ever need attention all I have to do is die.
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August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time.
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Dancing is the normal prelude to intercourse.
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I lean to you, numb as a fossil. Tell me I'm here.
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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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Hour by hour, day by day, life becomes possible.
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With that strange knowing that comes over me, like a clairvoyance, I know that I am sure of myself and my enormous and alarmingly timeless love for you which will always be.
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I must be lean & write & make worlds beside this to live in.
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I've eaten a bag of Green apples. Boarded the train, there's no getting off
Sylvia Plath