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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
People
Mother
Reality
Become
Need
Must
Needs
Housewife
Work
Fulfill
Never
Mere

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To learn and think to think and live to live and learn: this always, with new insight, new understanding, and new love.
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If only a group of people were more important to me than the idea of a Novel, I might begin a novel.
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After all, we are nothing more or less than we choose to reveal.
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You cannot regard your own life with objective curiosity all the time.
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If only I knew what I wanted I could try to see about getting it.
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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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We should meet in another life, we should meet in air, me and you.
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But life is long. And it is the long run that balances the short flare of interest and passion.
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Well, I know now. I know a little more how much a simple thing like a snowfall can mean to a person
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With that strange knowing that comes over me, like a clairvoyance, I know that I am sure of myself and my enormous and alarmingly timeless love for you which will always be.
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Sometimes I nursed starfish alive in jam jars of seawater and watched them grow back lost arms. On this day, this awful birthday of otherness, my rival, somebody else, I flung the starfish against a stone. Let it perish.
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I said: I must remember this, being small.
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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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Your room is not your prison. You are.
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Some things are hard to write about. After something happens to you, you go to write it down, and either you over dramatize it, or underplay it, exaggerate the wrong parts or ignore the important ones. At any rate, you never write it quite the way you want to.
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Before I give my body, I must give my thoughts, my mind, my dreams.
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And if you have no past or future which, after all, is all that the present is made of, why then you may as well dispose of the empty shell of present and commit suicide.
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It's the living, the eating, the sleeping that everyone needs. Ideas don't matter so much after all. My three best friends are Catholic. I can't see their beliefs, but I can see the things they love to do on earth. When you come right down to it, I do believe in the freedom of the individual.
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Can you understand? Someone, somewhere, can you understand me a little, love me a little? For all my despair, for all my ideals, for all that - I love life. But it is hard, and I have so much - so very much to learn.
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I never feel so much myself as when I'm in a hot bath.
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