Quote

What I hate is the thought of being under a man's thumb, I had told Doctor Nolan. A man doesn't have a worry in the world, while I've got a baby hanging over my head like a big stick, to keep me in line.

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
Keep
Line
Doesn
Baby
Thumb
Thought
Told
Thumbs
Men
Worry
Hanging
Like
Head
Doctor
World
Lines
Stick
Bigs
Sticks
Hate
Doctors

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In spite of everything, I still have my good old sense of humor.
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With me, the present is forever, and forever is always shifting, flowing, melting. This second is life. And when it is gone it is dead. But you can't start over with each new second. You have to judge by what is dead. It's like quicksand... hopeless from the start.
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We stayed at home to write, to consolidate our outstretched selves.
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And the danger is that in this move toward new horizons and far directions, that I may lose what I have now, and not find anything except loneliness
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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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I was my own woman. The next step was to find the proper sort of man.
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Miracles occur, If you dare to call those spasmodic Tricks of radiance miracles. The wait's begun again, The long wait for the angel, For that rare, random descent.
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I'm about fifty years behind as far as my preferences go and I must say that the poets who excite me most are the Americans. There are very few contemporary English poets that I admire.
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I collect men with interesting names.
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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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If every soldier refused to take arms ... there would be no wars but no one has the courage to be the first to live according to Christ and Socrates, because in a world of opportunists they would be martyred.
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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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Then I thought, No, I broke it myself. I broke it on purpose to pay myself back for being such a heel.
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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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I feel occasionally my skull will crack, fatigue is continuous - I only go from less exhausted to more exhausted & back again.
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It's the living, the eating, the sleeping that everyone needs. Ideas don't matter so much after all. My three best friends are Catholic. I can't see their beliefs, but I can see the things they love to do on earth. When you come right down to it, I do believe in the freedom of the individual.
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They had to call and call And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.
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It was sometime in October she had long ago lost track of all the days and it really didn’t matter because one was like another and there were no nights to separate them because she never slept any more.
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I didn’t want any flowers, I only wanted to lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty. How free it is, you have no idea how free.
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Good to know that if I ever need attention all I have to do is die.
Sylvia Plath