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Sylvia Plath

God, but life is loneliness, despite all the opiates, despite the shrill tinsel gaiety of “parties” with no purpose, despite the false grinning faces we all wear. 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… Continue reading Sylvia Plath

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American Culture · American Literature · Autobiographical · Biographical · Classic · Confessional · Contemporary · Diary · Excerpt · Journal · Non-fiction · Notebook · Paraphrase · Passage · Quote

Susan Sontag

In the journal I do not just express myself more openly than I do to any person; I create myself. The journal is a vehicle for my sense of selfhood. It represents me as emotionally and spiritually independent. Therefore (alas) it does not simply record my actual, daily life but rather—in many cases—offers an alternative… Continue reading Susan Sontag

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Classic · Collection · Confessional · Contemporary · Correspondence · Diary · Epistolary · Excerpt · Journal · Lebanese-American Culture · Lebanese-American Literature · Notebook · Paraphrase · Passage · Quote

Kahlil Gibran

The resting place of my soul is a beautiful grove where my knowledge of you lives. ― Kahlil Gibran, Beloved Prophet: The Love Letters of Kahlil Gibran and Mary Haskell, and Her Private Journal. (Knopf; 1st edition, February 12, 1972)

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Autobiographical · Biographical · Classic · Collection · Confessional · Correspondence · Diary · Dutch Culture · Dutch Literature · Epistolary · Excerpt · Jewish Culture · Jewish Literature · Journal · Notebook · Paraphrase · Passage · Quote

Etty Hillesum

We have to become as simple and as wordless as the growing corn or the falling rain. We must just be. — Etty Hillesum, An Interrupted Life: The Diaries, 1941-1943; and Letters from Westerbork. (Picador; unknown edition, November 15, 1996)

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Autobiographical · Biographical · British Culture · Classic · Confessional · Diary · English Literature · Excerpt · Journal · Modernism · Notebook · Paraphrase · Passage · Quote · Stream of Consciousness

Virginia Woolf

I can only note that the past is beautiful because one never realises an emotion at the time. It expands later, and thus we don’t have complete emotions about the present, only about the past. ― Virginia Woolf, The Diary of Virginia Woolf, Volume Three: 1925-1930. (Mariner Books; First edition, September 14, 1981)

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