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Beached under the spumy blooms, we lie Sea-sick and fever-dry.
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
Lying
Blooms
Fever
Dry
Sea
Sick
More quotes by Sylvia Plath
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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The silence drew off, baring the pebbles and shells and all the tatty wreckage of my life.
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I began to think vodka was my drink at last. It didn’t taste like anything, but it went straight down into my stomach like a sword swallowers’ sword and made me feel powerful and godlike.
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I was my own woman. The next step was to find the proper sort of man.
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Winning or losing an argument, receiving an acceptance or rejection, is no proof of the validity or value of personal identity. One may be wrong, mistaken, or a poor craftsman, or just ignorant - but this is no indication of the true worth of one's total human identity: past, present and future!
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What horrifies me most is the idea of being useless: well-educated, brilliantly promising, and fading out into an indifferent middle age.
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The only reason I remembered this play was because it had a mad person in it, and everything I had ever read about mad people stuck in my mind, while everything else flew out.
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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.
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I am disabused of all faith, and see too clearly.
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…beating time along the edge of thought.
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And I identify too closely with my reading, with my writing.
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Tomorrow I will curse the dawn, but there will be other, earlier nights, and the dawns will be no longer hell laid out in alarms and raw bells and sirens.
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I must bridge the gap between adolescent glitter and mature glow.
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I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead I lift my eyes and all is born again.
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At twenty I tried to die And get back, back, back to you. I thought even the bones would do.
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I must be lean & write & make worlds beside this to live in.
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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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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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I desire the things that will destroy me in the end.
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I feel that very strongly: having been an academic, having been tempted by the invitation to stay on to become a Ph.D., a professor, and all that, one side of me certainly does respect all disciplines, as long as they don't ossify.
Sylvia Plath