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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
Fit
Becoming
Lives
Best
Different
Trying
Like
Fits
Dresses

More quotes by Sylvia Plath

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Read widely of others' experiences, even if it'd be more comfortable to snuggle back in the comforting cotton-wool of blissful ignorance.
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I must be lean & write & make worlds beside this to live in.
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Yes, I was infatuated with you: I am still. No one has ever heightened such a keen capacity of physical sensation in me. I cut you out because I couldn't stand being a passing fancy. Before I give my body, I must give my thoughts, my mind, my dreams. And you weren't having any of those.
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If only I knew what I wanted I could try to see about getting it.
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Not being perfect hurts.
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A skeptic, I would ask for consistency first of all.
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I lean to you, numb as a fossil. Tell me I'm here.
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I felt very still and empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel, moving dully along in the middle of the surrounding hullabaloo.
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The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.
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I do not know who I am, where I am going - and I am the one who has to decide the answers to these hideous questions.
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What did my arms do before they held you?
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It's the living, the eating, the sleeping that everyone needs. Ideas don't matter so much after all. My three best friends are Catholic. I can't see their beliefs, but I can see the things they love to do on earth. When you come right down to it, I do believe in the freedom of the individual.
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I am dead to them, even though I once flowered.
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That’s one of the reasons I never wanted to get married. The last thing I wanted was infinite security and to be the place an arrow shoots off from. 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 thought that I might kill myself formed in my mind coolly as a tree or a flower.
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Jealousy can open the blood, it can make black roses.
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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.
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…beating time along the edge of thought.
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Aloneness and selfness are too important to betray for company.
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August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time.
Sylvia Plath