Quote

The moon has nothing to be sad about, Staring from her hood of bone. She is used to this sort of thing. Her blacks crackle and drag.

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
Thing
Drag
Staring
Bones
Moon
Darkness
Crackle
Sort
Blacks
Used
Hood
Nothing
Bone

More quotes by Sylvia Plath

Image
I think my poems immediately come out of the sensuous and emotional experiences I have, but I must say I cannot sympathise with these cries from the heart that are informed by nothing except a needle or a knife, or whatever it is.
Sylvia Plath
Image
There must be quite a few things that a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them.
Sylvia Plath
Image
But life is long. And it is the long run that balances the short flare of interest and passion.
Sylvia Plath
Image
Love set you going like a fat gold watch. The midwife slapped your footsoles, and your bald cry Took its place among the elements.
Sylvia Plath
Image
Poetry, I feel, is a tyrannical discipline, you've got to go so far, so fast, in such a small space that you've just got to turn away all the peripherals.
Sylvia Plath
Image
If you expect nothing from anybody, you’re never disappointed.
Sylvia Plath
Image
I felt the mask crumple, the great poisonous store of corrosive ashes begin to spew out of my mouth.
Sylvia Plath
Image
I like you, but not too much. I don’t want to like anybody too much.
Sylvia Plath
Image
Is there no way out of the mind?
Sylvia Plath
Image
I'm about fifty years behind as far as my preferences go and I must say that the poets who excite me most are the Americans. There are very few contemporary English poets that I admire.
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
And I sit here without identity: faceless. My head aches.
Sylvia Plath
Image
No day is safe from news of you.
Sylvia Plath
Image
There is so much hurt in this game of searching for a mate, of testing, trying. And you realize suddenly that you forgot it was a game, and turn away in tears.
Sylvia Plath
Image
If I didn’t think, I’d be much happier.
Sylvia Plath
Image
The only thing I could think of was turkey neck and turkey gizzards and I felt very depressed.
Sylvia Plath
Image
because wherever I sat—on the deck of a ship or at a street café in Paris or Bangkok—I would be sitting under the same glass bell jar, stewing in my own sour air.
Sylvia Plath
Image
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.
Sylvia Plath
Image
I opened the door and blinked out into the bright hall. I had the impression it wasn't night and it wasn't day, but some lurid third interval that had suddenly slipped between them and would never end.
Sylvia Plath
Image
I used to pray to recover you.
Sylvia Plath