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I am not cruel, only truthful.

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
Truthful
Cruel

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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…beating time along the edge of thought.
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No, I won't try to escape myself by losing myself in artificial chatter 'Did you have a nice vacation?' 'Oh, yes, and you?' I'll stay here and try to pin that loneliness down.
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And I sit here without identity: faceless. My head aches.
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I wish you’d find the exit out of my head.
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I must say that I am not very genteel and I feel that gentility has a stranglehold: the neatness, the wonderful tidiness, which is so evident everywhere in England is perhaps more dangerous than it would appear on the surface.
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…I hate myself for not being able to go downstairs naturally and seek comfort in numbers. I hate myself for having to sit here and be torn between I know not what within me.
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I hurl my heart to halt his pace.
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I lay in that tub on the seventeenth floor of this hotel for-women-only, high up over the jazz and push of New York, for near unto an hour, and I felt myself growing pure again. I don't believe in baptism or the waters of Jordan or anything like that, but I guess I feel about a hot bath the way those religious people feel about holy water.
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I like people too much or not at all. I've got to go down deep, to fall into people, to really know them.
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Nothing is real except the present, and already, I feel the weight of centuries smothering me. Some girl a hundred years ago once lived as I do. And she is dead. I am the present, but I know I, too, will pass. The high moment, the burning flash, come and are gone, continuous quicksand. And I don’t want to die.
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I couldn’t see the point of getting up. I had nothing to look forward to.
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We stayed at home to write, to consolidate our outstretched selves.
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Eternity bores me, I never wanted it.
Sylvia Plath
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What I cannot forgive is dishonesty - and no matter what, or how hard, I would rather know the truth of which I today had such a clear & devastating vision from his mouth than hear foul evasions, blurrings and rattiness.
Sylvia Plath
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A black-sharded lady keeps me in a parrot cage.
Sylvia Plath
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I must be lean & write & make worlds beside this to live in.
Sylvia Plath
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I am accused. I dream of massacres. I am a garden of black and red agonies. I drink them, Hating myself, hating and fearing. And now the world conceives Its end and runs toward it, arms held out in love.
Sylvia Plath
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I'm happier writing about doctors than I would have been being one.
Sylvia Plath
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My life is a discipline, a prison: I live for my own work, without which I am nothing.
Sylvia Plath