Quote

Sometimes I nursed starfish alive in jam jars of seawater and watched them grow back lost arms. On this day, this awful birthday of otherness, my rival, somebody else, I flung the starfish against a stone. Let it perish.

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
Grow
Perish
Somebody
Rivals
Starfish
Grows
Watched
Nursed
Alive
Birthday
Otherness
Lost
Stone
Flung
Else
Awful
Rival
Back
Stones
Jars
Sometimes
Arms
Jam

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I am solitary as grass. What is it I miss? Shall I ever find it, whatever it is?
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Character is fate.
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Go out and do something. It isn’t your room that’s a prison, it’s yourself.
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I wanted to do everything once and for all and be through with it.
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Ash, ash —- You poke and stir. Flesh, bone, there is nothing there—— A cake of soap, A wedding ring, A gold filling. Herr God, Herr Lucifer Beware Beware. Out of the ash I rise with my red hair And I eat men like air.
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