99 Timeless Quotes By Sylvia Plath, The Author Of The Bell Jar
Sylvia Plath was one of the dynamically talented and skilled poets of the 20th century who rose to prominence after her death. Plath’s contribution to the literary world has been significant. She attracted the attention of the readers by her verse writing that attempted to catalogue despair, violent emotion and obsession all in a single verse. What made Plath’s writing unique from the rest was the fact that her works were largely autobiographical. They explored her own mental anguish, her troubled marriage to fellow poet Ted Hughes, her unresolved conflicts with her parents, and her own vision of herself. Sylvia Plath suffered from severe depression all her life that led to her suicidal death at 30. Her poetry is basically associated with the Confessional movement, and most of her work is compared to the work of other poets such as Lowell and Anne Sexton. Plath’s works revolve around violent or disturbed imagery, which she tackles with a playful use of alliteration and rhyme. The same can also be seen in her quotes wherein in few words she takes a dig at life’s greatest lessons. Her quotes widely touch varied genres of life and give readers some important thoughts to ponder about. Listed below are some of the most popular quotes by Sylvia Plath. Get inspired by them.
If you expect nothing from somebody you are never disappointed.
And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.
Kiss me, and you will see how important I am.
I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am.
I have the choice of being constantly active and happy or introspectively passive and sad. Or I can go mad by ricocheting in between.
Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing.
The silence depressed me. It wasn't the silence of silence. It was my own silence.
I felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery—air, mountains, trees, people. I thought, "This is what it is to be happy.
Let me live, love, and say it well in good sentences
Remember, remember, this is now, and now, and now. Live it, feel it, cling to it. I want to become acutely aware of all I’ve taken for granted.
If neurotic is wanting two mutually exclusive things at one and the same time, then I'm neurotic as hell. I'll be flying back and forth between one mutually exclusive thing and another for the rest of my days.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my eyes and all is born again.
Is there no way out of the mind?
I desire the things that will destroy me in the end.
I like people too much or not at all. I've got to go down deep, to fall into people, to really know them.
If the moon smiled, she would resemble you. You leave the same impression Of something beautiful, but annihilating.
We should meet in another life, we should meet in air, me and you.
There is nothing like puking with somebody to make you into old friends.
The trouble was, I had been inadequate all along, I simply hadn't thought about it.
I talk to God but the sky is empty.
When they asked me what I wanted to be I said I didn’t know. "Oh, sure you know," the photographer said. "She wants," said Jay Cee wittily, "to be everything.
I must get my soul back from you; I am killing my flesh without it.
How we need another soul to cling to.
To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is a bad dream.
I felt very still and empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel, moving dully along in the middle of the surrounding hullabaloo.
I am still so naïve; I know pretty much what I like and dislike; but please, don’t ask me who I am. A passionate, fragmentary girl, maybe?
Dying is an art. Like everything else, I do it exceptionally well. I do it so it feels like hell. I do it so it feels real. I guess you could say I have a call.
I don’t care about anyone, and the feeling is quite obviously mutual.
I have never found anybody who could stand to accept the daily demonstrative love I feel in me, and give back as good as I give.
Perhaps some day I'll crawl back home, beaten, defeated. But not as long as I can make stories out of my heartbreak, beauty out of sorrow.
