Quote

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.

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
Men
Red
Bone
Like
Bones
Soap
Rise
Filling
Flesh
Ashes
Herr
Air
Wedding
Lucifer
Gold
Ring
Poke
Hair
Cake
Stir
Nothing
Rings
Beware

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I felt very low. I had been unmasked only that morning by Jay Cee herself, and I felt now that all the uncomfortable suspicions I had about myself were coming true. After nineteen years of running after good marks and prizes and grants of one sort and another, I was letting up, slowing down, dropping clean out of race.
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God, it was good to let go, let the tight mask fall off, and the bewildered, chaotic fragments pour out. It was the purge, the catharsis.
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I felt like a racehorse in a world without racetracks.
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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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You cannot regard your own life with objective curiosity all the time.
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The silence depressed me. It wasn't the silence of silence. It was my own silence.
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I felt wise and cynical as all hell.
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