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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

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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
Men
Woman
Frustrated
Think
Idea
Justify
Thinking
Anything
Express
Ideas
Fully
Feel
Somewhere
Feels
Universal
Much
Impossible
Way
Alive
Picked

More quotes by Sylvia Plath

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I wanted to do everything once and for all and be through with it.
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I used to pray to recover you.
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I felt like a racehorse in a world without racetracks or a champion college footballer suddenly confronted by Wall Street and a business suit, his days of glory shrunk to a little gold cup on his mantel with a date engraved on it like the date on a tombstone.
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I am still raw. I say I may be back. You know what lies are for. Even in your Zen heaven we shan't meet.
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Although, I admit, I desire, Occasionally, some backtalk From the mute sky, I can't honestly complain: A certain minor light may still Lean incandescent Out of kitchen table or chair As if a celestial burning took Possession of the most obtuse objects now and then --
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Why can’t I try on different lives, like dresses, to see which fits best and is more becoming?
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So I began to think maybe it was true that when you were married and had children it was like being brainwashed, and afterward you went about as numb as a slave in a totalitarian state.
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At twenty I tried to die And get back, back, back to you. I thought even the bones would do.
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…beating time along the edge of thought.
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Life has been some combination of fairy-tale coincidence and joie de vivre and shocks of beauty together with some hurtful self-questioning.
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I keep wanting to crawl back into the womb.
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There I went again, building up a glamorous picture of a man who would love me passionately the minute he met me, and all out of a few prosy nothings.
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Doing all the little tricky things it takes to grow up, step by step, into an anxious and unsettling world.
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The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.
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I am not cruel, only truthful.
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Not being perfect hurts.
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Why honey, don't you want to get dressed? My mother took care never to tell me to do anything. She would only reason with me sweetly, like one intelligent, mature person with another. It's almost three in the afternoon. I'm writing a novel, I said. I haven't got time to change into this and change into that.
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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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A skeptic, I would ask for consistency first of all.
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In spite of everything, I still have my good old sense of humor.
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