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I need the reality of other people, work, to fulfill myself. Must never become a mere mother and housewife.
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
Need
Must
Needs
Housewife
Work
Fulfill
Never
Mere
People
Mother
Reality
Become
More quotes by Sylvia Plath
The slime of all my yesterdays rots in the hollow of my skull.
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I must bridge the gap between adolescent glitter and mature glow.
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I lay in that tub on the seventeenth floor of this hotel for-women-only, high up over the jazz and push of New York, for near unto an hour, and I felt myself growing pure again. I don't believe in baptism or the waters of Jordan or anything like that, but I guess I feel about a hot bath the way those religious people feel about holy water.
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Sometimes I feel so stupid and dull and uncreative that I am amazed when people tell me differently.
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Love, love, I have hung our cave with roses.
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It is awful to want to go away and to want to go nowhere.
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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.
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And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter— they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long.
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I must get my soul back from you I am killing my flesh without it.
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I have a violence in me that is hot as death-blood.
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I collect men with interesting names.
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I am myself. That is not enough.
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I am sure there are things that can't be cured by a good bath but I can't think of one.
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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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Before I give my body, I must give my thoughts, my mind, my dreams.
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Aloneness and selfness are too important to betray for company.
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I want to become acutely aware of all I've taken for granted.
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Life was not to be sitting in hot amorphic leisure in my backyard idly writing or not writing, as the spirit moved me. It was, instead, running madly, in a crowded schedule, in a squirrel cage of busy people. Working, living, dancing, dreaming, talking, kissing- singing, laughing, learning.
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And I am aware of my heart: it opens and closes Its bowl of red blooms out of sheer love of me.
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With me, the present is forever, and forever is always shifting, flowing, melting. This second is life. And when it is gone it is dead. But you can't start over with each new second. You have to judge by what is dead. It's like quicksand... hopeless from the start.
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