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I have let things slip, a thirty-year~old cargo boat Stubbornly hanging on to my name and address.

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
Thirty
Stubbornly
Name
Cargo
Names
Slip
Year
Slips
Things
Address
Hanging
Addresses
Boat

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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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Every day is precious and I feel infinitely sad at this time melting away from me.
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You cannot regard your own life with objective curiosity all the time.
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God, it was good to let go, let the tight mask fall off, and the bewildered, chaotic fragments pour out. It was the purge, the catharsis.
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To annihilate the world by annihilation of oneself is the deluded height of desperate egoism.
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I need not to be more with others, but to be more & more deeply, richly alone. Recreating worlds.
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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 --
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…'It always has to end, doesn't it? We always have to separate.' 'Yes,' I said. He was insistent, 'But it doesn't always have to be that way. We could be together some day for always.' 'Oh, no,' I told him, wondering if he knew it was all over. 'We keep running till we die. We separate, get further apart, till we are dead.
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Jealousy can open the blood, it can make black roses.
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I do not fear it: I have been there.
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I talk to God but the sky is empty.
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And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.
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I never feel so much myself as when I'm in a hot bath.
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I knew chemistry would be worse, because I'd seen a big card of the ninety-odd elements hung up in the chemistry lab, and all the perfectly good words like gold and silver and cobalt and aluminum were shortened to ugly abbreviations with different decimal numbers after them.
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Sunday-the doctor's paradise! Doctors at country clubs, doctors at the seaside, doctors with mistresses, doctors with wives, doctors in church, doctors in yachts, doctors everywhere resolutely being people, not doctors.
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I am still raw. I say I may be back. You know what lies are for. Even in your Zen heaven we shan't meet.
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It is so much safer not to feel, not to let the world touch me.
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I get into a rut, unable to yank my mind out of it.
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I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane. (I think I made you up inside my head.)
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