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Why can’t I try on different lives, like dresses, to see which fits best and is more becoming?

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
Dresses
Fit
Becoming
Lives
Best
Different
Trying
Like
Fits

More quotes by Sylvia Plath

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A terrible depression yesterday. Visions of my life petering out into a kind of soft-brained stupor from lack of use.
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I wanted change and excitement and to shoot off in all directions myself, like the colored arrows from a Fourth of July rocket.
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The silence drew off, baring the pebbles and shells and all the tatty wreckage of my life.
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August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time.
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I opened the door and blinked out into the bright hall. I had the impression it wasn't night and it wasn't day, but some lurid third interval that had suddenly slipped between them and would never end.
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Even amidst fierce flames the golden lotus can be planted.
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God, how I ricochet between certainties and doubts.
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I could never be a complete scholar or a complete housewife ora completewriter: Imustcombinea little of all, and thereby be imperfect in all.
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Outcast on a cold star, unable to feel anything but an awful helpless numbness. I look down into the warm, earthy world. Into a nest of lovers' beds, baby cribs, meal tables, all the solid commerce of life in this earth, and feel apart, enclosed in a wall of glass.
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Jealousy can open the blood, it can make black roses.
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I have stitched life into me like a rare organ
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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 just got to turn away all the peripherals.
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The box is only temporary.
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Maybe forgetfulness, like a kind snow, should numb and cover them. But they were a part of me. They were my landscape.
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Love is a shadow. How you lie and cry after it
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It is a feeling that no matter what the ideas or conduct of others, there is a unique rightness and beauty to life which can be shared in openness, in wind and sunlight, with a fellow human being who believes in the same basic principles.
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What I fear most, I think, is the death of the imagination.
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Oh what a poet I will flay myself into.
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We know a thing by its opposite corollary hot by having experienced cold good by having decided what is bad love by hate.
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It is awful to want to go away and to want to go nowhere.
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