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I felt like a racehorse in a world without racetracks.

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
Like
World
Racehorse
Racehorses
Felt
Without

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The man creates a pseudonym and hides behind it like a worm
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Not being perfect hurts.
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I am disabused of all faith, and see too clearly.
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I think I may well be a Jew.
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That afternoon my mother had brought me the roses. Save them for my funeral, I'd said.
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I do not love I do not love anybody except myself. That is a rather shocking thing to admit.
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…'It always has to end, doesn't it? We always have to separate.' 'Yes,' I said. He was insistent, 'But it doesn't always have to be that way. We could be together some day for always.' 'Oh, no,' I told him, wondering if he knew it was all over. 'We keep running till we die. We separate, get further apart, till we are dead.
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There is a certain unique and strange delight about walking down an empty street alone. There is an off-focus light cast by the moon, and the streetlights are part of the spotlight apparatus on a bare stage set up for you to walk through. You get a feeling of being listened to, so you talk aloud, softly, to see how it sounds.
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