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Only I wasn't steering anything, not even myself.
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
Anything
Even
Steering
Wasn
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The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.
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No day is safe from news of you.
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You walked in, laughing, tears welling confused, mingling in your throat. How can you be so many women to so many people, oh you strange girl?
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I am I-I am powerful, but to what extent? I am I.
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I am but one more drop in the great sea of matter, defined, with the ability to realize my existence.
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I feel that very strongly: having been an academic, having been tempted by the invitation to stay on to become a Ph.D., a professor, and all that, one side of me certainly does respect all disciplines, as long as they don't ossify.
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I don’t care about anyone, and the feeling is quite obviously mutual.
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If you pluck out my heart To find what makes it move, You’ll halt the clock That syncopates our love.
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A skeptic, I would ask for consistency first of all.
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I began to think vodka was my drink at last. It didn’t taste like anything, but it went straight down into my stomach like a sword swallowers’ sword and made me feel powerful and godlike.
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I want to taste and glory in each day, and never be afraid to experience pain and never shut myself up in a numb core of nonfeeling, or stop questioning and criticizing life and take the easy way out. To learn and think: to think and live to live and learn: this always, with new insight, new understanding, and new love.
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The sickness rolled through me in great waves. After each wave it would fade away and leave me limp as a wet leaf and shivering all over and then I would feel it rising up in me again, and the glittering white torture chamber tiles under my feet and over my head and all four sides closed in and squeezed me to pieces.
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To annihilate the world by annihilation of oneself is the deluded height of desperate egoism.
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It is awful to want to go away and to want to go nowhere.
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To learn and think to think and live to live and learn: this always, with new insight, new understanding, and new love.
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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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With that strange knowing that comes over me, like a clairvoyance, I know that I am sure of myself and my enormous and alarmingly timeless love for you which will always be.
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There is more than one good way to drown.
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Love set you going like a fat gold watch. The midwife slapped your footsoles, and your bald cry Took its place among the elements.
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I think that as far as language goes I'm an American, I'm afraid, my accent is American, my way of talk is an American way of talk, I'm an old-fashioned American. That's probably one of the reasons why I'm in England now and why I'll always stay in England.
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