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I am learning peacefulness, lying by myself quietly, as the light lies on these white walls, this bed, these hands. I am nobody I have nothing to do with explosions.

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
Light
Bed
Nothing
Lies
Wall
Nobody
Peacefulness
Learning
Explosions
Lying
Quietly
White
Walls
Hands
Chaos

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She stared at her reflection in the glossed shop windows as if to make sure, moment by moment, that she continued to exist.
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I felt like a racehorse in a world without racetracks.
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I started adding up all the things I couldn't do.
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I hurl my heart to halt his pace.
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The silence between us was so profound I thought part of it must be my fault.
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It was my last act of love (first words to her mother in the hospital after her first major suicide attempt)
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I have a violence in me that is hot as death-blood.
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I, to you, am lost in the gorgeous errors of flesh.
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I have taken a pill to kill The thin Papery feeling.
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I like people, but to learn about one individual always appeals to me more than anything.
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Poetry, I feel, is a tyrannical discipline. You've got to go so far, so fast, in such a small space, that you've got to burn away all the peripherals.
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I am sure there are things that can't be cured by a good bath but I can't think of one.
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The moon has nothing to be sad about, Staring from her hood of bone. She is used to this sort of thing. Her blacks crackle and drag.
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