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I don’t care about anyone, and the feeling is quite obviously mutual.

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
Mutual
Obviously
Quite
Feeling
Anyone
Feelings
Care

More quotes by Sylvia Plath

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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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The thing about writing is not to talk, but to do it no matter how bad or even mediocre it is, the process and production is the thing, not the sitting and theorizing about how one should write ideally, or how well one could write if one really wanted to or had the time.
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Now I am silent, hate Up to my neck, Thick, thick. I do not speak.
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I wanted change and excitement and to shoot off in all directions myself, like the colored arrows from a Fourth of July rocket.
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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 fancied you'd return the way you said, But I grow old and I forget your name. (I think I made you up inside my head.) I should have loved a thunderbird instead At least when spring comes they roar back again. I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. (I think I made you up inside my head.)
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What I want back is what I was Before the bed, before the knife, Before the brooch-pin and the salve Fixed me in this parenthesis Horses fluent in the wind, A place, a time gone out of mind.
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I am accused. I dream of massacres. I am a garden of black and red agonies. I drink them, Hating myself, hating and fearing. And now the world conceives Its end and runs toward it, arms held out in love.
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Jealousy can open the blood, it can make black roses.
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because wherever I sat—on the deck of a ship or at a street café in Paris or Bangkok—I would be sitting under the same glass bell jar, stewing in my own sour air.
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Pretty soon, the only doubt in my mind was the precise time and method of committing suicide. The only alternative I could see was an eternity of hell for the rest of my life in a mental hospital, and I was going to use my last ounce of free choice and choose a quick clean ending.
Sylvia Plath
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What is my life for and what am I going to do with it? I don't know and I'm afraid.
Sylvia Plath
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So much working, reading, thinking, living to do! A lifetime is not long enough.
Sylvia Plath
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I know the bottom, she says. I know it with my great tap root: It is what you fear. I do not fear it: I have been there.
Sylvia Plath
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But when it came right down to it, the skin of my wrist looked so white and defenseless that I couldn't do it.
Sylvia Plath
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God, if ever I have come close to wanting to commit suicide, it is now, with the groggy sleepless blood dragging through my veins, and the air thick and gray with rain ... I fell into bed again this morning, begging for sleep, withdrawing into the dark, warm, fetid escape from action, from responsibility. No good.
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Love is a shadow. How you lie and cry after it
Sylvia Plath
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Aloneness and selfness are too important to betray for company.
Sylvia Plath
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The sky leans on me, me, the one upright among all horizontals.
Sylvia Plath
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I'm happier writing about doctors than I would have been being one.
Sylvia Plath