Quote

Love, love, I have hung our cave with roses.

Sylvia Plath

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

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
Cave
Roses
Caves
Hung
Rose
Love

More quotes by Sylvia Plath

Image
I have no preconceptions. Whatever I see, I swallow immediately. Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike. I am not cruel, only truthful.
Sylvia Plath
Image
So learn about life. Cut yourself a big slice with the silver server, a big slice of pie. Open your eyes. Let life happen.
Sylvia Plath
Image
Look at that ugly dead mask here and do not forget it. It is a chalk mask with dead dry poison behind it, like the death angel. It is what I was this fall, and what I never want to be again. The pouting disconsolate mouth, the flat, bored, numb, expressionless eyes: symptoms of the foul decay within.
Sylvia Plath
Image
Oh what a poet I will flay myself into.
Sylvia Plath
Image
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.
Sylvia Plath
Image
I lay in that tub on the seventeenth floor of this hotel for-women-only, high up over the jazz and push of New York, for near unto an hour, and I felt myself growing pure again. I don't believe in baptism or the waters of Jordan or anything like that, but I guess I feel about a hot bath the way those religious people feel about holy water.
Sylvia Plath
Image
We stayed at home to write, to consolidate our outstretched selves.
Sylvia Plath
Image
I would say everything should be able to come into a poem, but I can't put toothbrushes into a poem, I really can't!
Sylvia Plath
Image
There is nothing like puking with somebody to make you into old friends.
Sylvia Plath
Image
I am jealous of those who think more deeply, who write better, who draw better, who ski better, who look better, who live better, who love better than I.
Sylvia Plath
Image
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.
Sylvia Plath
Image
Clouds pass and disperse. Are those the faces of love, those pale irretrievables? Is it for such I agitate my heart?
Sylvia Plath
Image
Every woman adores a Fascist, The boot in the face, the brute Brute heart of a brute like you.
Sylvia Plath
Image
And there's the fallacy of existence: the idea that one could be happy forever and age with a given situation or series of accomplishments.
Sylvia Plath
Image
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.
Sylvia Plath
Image
I need not to be more with others, but to be more & more deeply, richly alone. Recreating worlds.
Sylvia Plath
Image
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—— The peacefulness is so big it dazes you, And it asks nothing, a name tag, a few trinkets. It is what the dead close on, finally I imagine them Shutting their mouths on it, like a Communion tablet.
Sylvia Plath
Image
Although, I admit, I desire, Occasionally, some backtalk From the mute sky, I can't honestly complain: A certain minor light may still Lean incandescent Out of kitchen table or chair As if a celestial burning took Possession of the most obtuse objects now and then --
Sylvia Plath
Image
The box is only temporary.
Sylvia Plath
Image
I find that in a novel I can get more of life, perhaps not such intense life, but certainly more of life than in poetry.
Sylvia Plath