Quote

I dream too much, work too little.

Sylvia Plath

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

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
Dream
Littles
Little
Work
Much

More quotes by Sylvia Plath

Image
If they substituted the word 'Lust' for 'Love' in the popular songs it would come nearer the truth.
Sylvia Plath
Image
Whenever I'm sad I'm going to die, or so nervous I can't sleep, or in love with somebody I won't be seeing for a week, I slump down just so far and then I say: 'I'll go take a hot bath.
Sylvia Plath
Image
She stared at her reflection in the glossed shop windows as if to make sure, moment by moment, that she continued to exist.
Sylvia Plath
Image
I have taken a pill to kill The thin Papery feeling.
Sylvia Plath
Image
I am but one more drop in the great sea of matter, defined, with the ability to realize my existence.
Sylvia Plath
Image
Frustrated? Yes. Why? Because it is impossible for me to be God — or the universal woman-and-man — or anything much. I am what I feel and think and do. I want to express my being as fully as I can because I somewhere picked up the idea that I could justify my being alive that way.
Sylvia Plath
Image
I collect men with interesting names.
Sylvia Plath
Image
Character is fate.
Sylvia Plath
Image
Feel oddly barren. My sickness is when words draw in their horns and the physical world refuses to be ordered, recreated, arranged and selected. I am a victim of it then, not a master.
Sylvia Plath
Image
Look at that ugly dead mask here and do not forget it. It is a chalk mask with dead dry poison behind it, like the death angel. It is what I was this fall, and what I never want to be again. The pouting disconsolate mouth, the flat, bored, numb, expressionless eyes: symptoms of the foul decay within.
Sylvia Plath
Image
I need more than anything right now what is, of course, most impossible, someone to love me, to be with me at night when I wake up in shuddering horror and fear of the cement tunnels leading down to the shock room, to comfort me with an assurance that no psychiatrist can quite manage to convey.
Sylvia Plath
Image
A terrible depression yesterday. Visions of my life petering out into a kind of soft-brained stupor from lack of use.
Sylvia Plath
Image
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
Image
Is anyone anywhere happy?
Sylvia Plath
Image
God, if ever I have come close to wanting to commit suicide, it is now, with the groggy sleepless blood dragging through my veins, and the air thick and gray with rain ... I fell into bed again this morning, begging for sleep, withdrawing into the dark, warm, fetid escape from action, from responsibility. No good.
Sylvia Plath
Image
O heart, such disorganization!
Sylvia Plath
Image
I, to you, am lost in the gorgeous errors of flesh.
Sylvia Plath
Image
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.
Sylvia Plath
Image
Why do we electrocute men for murdering an individual and then pin a purple heart on them for mass slaughter of someone arbitrarily labeled “enemy?
Sylvia Plath
Image
I have stitched life into me like a rare organ
Sylvia Plath