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I keep wanting to crawl back into the womb.

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
Illness
Keep
Back
Crawl
Womb
Depression
Wanting

More quotes by Sylvia Plath

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Let me sit in a flowerpot, The spiders won't notice. My heart is a stopped geranium.
Sylvia Plath
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There is nothing like puking with somebody to make you into old friends.
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They had to call and call And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.
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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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A fierce brief fusion which dreamers call real, and realists, an illusion an insight like the flight of birds.
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I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane. (I think I made you up inside my head.)
Sylvia Plath
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Piece by piece, I fed my wardrobe to the night wind, and flutteringly, like a loved one’s ashes, the gray scraps were ferried off, to settle here, there, exactly where I would never know, in the dark heart of New York.
Sylvia Plath
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But when it came right down to it, the skin of my wrist looked so white and defensless that I couldn't do it. It was as if what I wanted to kill wasn't in that skin or the thin blue pulse that jumped under my thumb, but somewhere else, deeper, more secret, and a whole lot harder to get.
Sylvia Plath
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But I am I now and so many other millions are so irretrievably their own special variety of 'I' that I can hardly bear to think of it. I: how firm a letter how reassuring the three strokes: one vertical, proud and assertive, and then the two short horizontal lines in quick, smug succession. The pen scratching on the paper…I…I…I…I…I…I.
Sylvia Plath
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If I have a dry spell ... I wait and live harder, eyes, ears, and heart open, and when the productive time comes, it is that much richer.
Sylvia Plath
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..I fancied you'd return the way you said, But I grow old and I forget your name. (I think I made you up inside my head.) I should have loved a thunderbird instead At least when spring comes they roar back again. I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. (I think I made you up inside my head.)
Sylvia Plath
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I believe that one should be able to control and manipulate experiences, even the most terrifying, like madness, being tortured...with an informed and intelligent mind.
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 collected men with interesting names. I already knew a Socrates. He was tall and ugly and intellectual and the son of some big Greek movie producer in Hollywood, but also a Catholic, which ruined it for both of us.
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
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I don't know what started me, I just wrote poetry from the time was quite small. I guess I liked nursery rhymes and I guess I thought I could do the same thing. I wrote my first poem, my first published poem, when I was eight-and-a-half years old. It came out in The Boston Traveller and from then on, I suppose, I've been a bit of a professional.
Sylvia Plath
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A million years of evolution, Eric said bitterly, and what are we? Animals.
Sylvia Plath
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Ironically, Henry James' biography comforts me & I long to make known to him his posthumous reputation he wrote, in pain, gave all his life (which is more than I could think of doing I have Ted, will have children but few friends) & the critics insulted & mocked him, readers didn't read him.
Sylvia Plath
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Not easy to state the change you made. If I'm alive now, I was dead, Though, like a stone, unbothered by it.
Sylvia Plath
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The trouble was, I had been inadequate all along, I simply hadn't thought about it.
Sylvia Plath