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Love, love, I have hung our cave with roses.
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
Cave
Roses
Caves
Hung
Rose
Love
More quotes by Sylvia Plath
Then I thought, No, I broke it myself. I broke it on purpose to pay myself back for being such a heel.
Sylvia Plath
A psychiatrist is the god of our age. But they cost money.
Sylvia Plath
I took a deep breath and listened to the old bray of my heart. I am. I am. I am.
Sylvia Plath
I must bridge the gap between adolescent glitter and mature glow.
Sylvia Plath
I must be lean & write & make worlds beside this to live in.
Sylvia Plath
I felt like a racehorse in a world without racetracks.
Sylvia Plath
We stayed at home to write, to consolidate our outstretched selves.
Sylvia Plath
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.
Sylvia Plath
I believe that one should be able to control and manipulate experiences, even the most terrifying, like madness, being tortured...with an informed and intelligent mind.
Sylvia Plath
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
A million years of evolution, Eric said bitterly, and what are we? Animals.
Sylvia Plath
Poetry, I feel, is a tyrannical discipline, you've got to go so far, so fast, in such a small space that you've just got to turn away all the peripherals.
Sylvia Plath
Read widely of others' experiences, even if it'd be more comfortable to snuggle back in the comforting cotton-wool of blissful ignorance.
Sylvia Plath
Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing.
Sylvia Plath
The moon, too, abases her subjects, but in the daytime she is ridiculous. Your dissatisfactions, on the other hand, arrive through the mailslot with loving regularity, white and blank, expansive as carbon monoxide. No day is safe from news of you, walking about in Africa maybe, but thinking of me.
Sylvia Plath
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.
Sylvia Plath
A terrible depression yesterday. Visions of my life petering out into a kind of soft-brained stupor from lack of use.
Sylvia Plath
Sometimes I feel so stupid and dull and uncreative that I am amazed when people tell me differently.
Sylvia Plath
I do not know who I am tonight.
Sylvia Plath
August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time.
Sylvia Plath