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You cannot regard your own life with objective curiosity all the time.

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
Objectives
Curiosity
Regard
Cannot
Time
Life
Objective

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But writing poems and letters doesn't seem to do much good.
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And you grit your teeth, despising yourself for your tremulous sensitivity, and wondering how human beings can suffer their individualities to be mercilessly crushed under a machinelike dictatorship, be it of industry, state or organization, all their lives long.
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You walked in, laughing, tears welling confused, mingling in your throat. How can you be so many women to so many people, oh you strange girl?
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I had imagined a kind, ugly, intuitive man looking up and say, 'Ah!' in an encouraging way, as if he could see something I couldn't, and then I would find words to tell him how I was so scared, as if I were being stuffed farther and farther into a black, airless sack with no way out.
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It is awful to want to go away and to want to go nowhere.
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I like you, but not too much. I don’t want to like anybody too much.
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I am so hungry for a big smashing creative burgeoning burdened love.
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I knew you'd decide to be all right again.
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If there's anything I look down on, it's a man in a blue outfit.
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I never feel so much myself as when I'm in a hot bath.
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I think the coming of spring, the stars overhead, the first snowfall and so on are gifts for a child, a young poet.
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The sky leans on me, me, the one upright among all horizontals.
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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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..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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Why do we electrocute men for murdering an individual and then pin a purple heart on them for mass slaughter of someone arbitrarily labeled “enemy?
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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 wish you’d find the exit out of my head.
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I have let things slip, a thirty-year~old cargo boat Stubbornly hanging on to my name and address.
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I could feel the winter shaking my bones and banging my teeth together.
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If I have a dry spell ... I wait and live harder, eyes, ears, and heart open, and when the productive time comes, it is that much richer.
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