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I felt wise and cynical as all hell.

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
Hell
Wise
Felt
Cynical

More quotes by Sylvia Plath

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If there's anything I look down on, it's a man in a blue outfit.
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And there's the fallacy of existence: the idea that one could be happy forever and age with a given situation or series of accomplishments.
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Sometimes I feel like I'm not solid. I'm hollow. There's nothing behind my eyes. I'm a negative of a person. All I want is blackness, blackness and silence.
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You are a dream I hope I never meet you.
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The trouble was, I had been inadequate all along, I simply hadn't thought about it.
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It is awful to want to go away and to want to go nowhere.
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Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing.
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What I want back is what I was Before the bed, before the knife, Before the brooch-pin and the salve Fixed me in this parenthesis Horses fluent in the wind, A place, a time gone out of mind.
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It is best to meet in a cul-de-sac, A palace of velvet With windows of mirrors. There one is safe, There are no family photographs, No rings through the nose, no cries.
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...we shall board our imagined ship and wildly sail among sacred islands of the mad till death shatters the fabulous stars and makes us real.
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A million years of evolution, Eric said bitterly, and what are we? Animals.
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Tomorrow I will curse the dawn, but there will be other, earlier nights, and the dawns will be no longer hell laid out in alarms and raw bells and sirens.
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As I lay on my back in bed staring up at the blank, white ceiling the stillness seemed to grow bigger and bigger until I felt my eardrums would burst with it.
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I wanted to be where nobody I knew could ever come.
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I wonder why I don't go to bed and go to sleep. But then it would be tomorrow, so I decide that no matter how tired, no matter how incoherent I am, I can skip on hour more of sleep and live.
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In spite of everything, I still have my good old sense of humor.
Sylvia Plath
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I find that in a novel I can get more of life, perhaps not such intense life, but certainly more of life than in poetry.
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I felt the first man I slept with must be intelligent, so I could respect him.
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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.
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Poetry, I feel, is a tyrannical discipline. You've got to go so far, so fast, in such a small space, that you've got to burn away all the peripherals.
Sylvia Plath