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I like people too much or not at all.

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
Much
Like
People

More quotes by Sylvia Plath

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I wonder why I don't go to bed and go to sleep. But then it would be tomorrow, so I decide that no matter how tired, no matter how incoherent I am, I can skip on hour more of sleep and live.
Sylvia Plath
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A black-sharded lady keeps me in a parrot cage.
Sylvia Plath
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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
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There is a certain unique and strange delight about walking down an empty street alone. There is an off-focus light cast by the moon, and the streetlights are part of the spotlight apparatus on a bare stage set up for you to walk through. You get a feeling of being listened to, so you talk aloud, softly, to see how it sounds.
Sylvia Plath
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I do not fear it: I have been there.
Sylvia Plath
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It was sometime in October she had long ago lost track of all the days and it really didn’t matter because one was like another and there were no nights to separate them because she never slept any more.
Sylvia Plath
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You have to be able to make a real creative life for Yourself, before you can expect anyone Else to provide one ready-made for you.
Sylvia Plath
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Pretty soon, the only doubt in my mind was the precise time and method of committing suicide. The only alternative I could see was an eternity of hell for the rest of my life in a mental hospital, and I was going to use my last ounce of free choice and choose a quick clean ending.
Sylvia Plath
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What I want back is what I was Before the bed, before the knife, Before the brooch-pin and the salve Fixed me in this parenthesis Horses fluent in the wind, A place, a time gone out of mind.
Sylvia Plath
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After all, we are nothing more or less than we choose to reveal.
Sylvia Plath
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I am so hungry for a big smashing creative burgeoning burdened love.
Sylvia Plath
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Feel oddly barren. My sickness is when words draw in their horns and the physical world refuses to be ordered, recreated, arranged and selected. I am a victim of it then, not a master.
Sylvia Plath
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But life is long. And it is the long run that balances the short flare of interest and passion.
Sylvia Plath
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No day is safe from news of you.
Sylvia Plath
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The thing about writing is not to talk, but to do it no matter how bad or even mediocre it is, the process and production is the thing, not the sitting and theorizing about how one should write ideally, or how well one could write if one really wanted to or had the time.
Sylvia Plath
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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
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I keep wanting to crawl back into the womb.
Sylvia Plath
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I do not know who I am tonight.
Sylvia Plath
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And I identify too closely with my reading, with my writing.
Sylvia Plath
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I think my poems immediately come out of the sensuous and emotional experiences I have, but I must say I cannot sympathise with these cries from the heart that are informed by nothing except a needle or a knife, or whatever it is.
Sylvia Plath