The swans are gone. Still the river Remembers how white they were. It strives after them with its lights. It finds their shapes in a cloud. What is that bird that cries With such sorrow in its voice? I am young as ever, it says. What is it I miss? — Sylvia Plath, from “Three… Continue reading Sylvia Plath
So I kiss him, and there is the great dark sea ahead, and above the sheaves of yellow stars, shoals of cold bright pieces of light and the great wind….. and I, strange and elated with a new wonder, child-like in my sudden power, look with eyes large in love and amazement at this intent… Continue reading Sylvia Plath
Well, I know now. I know a little more how much a simple thing like a snowfall can mean to a person. ― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath. (Anchor; Unabridged edition October 17, 2000)
You cannot regard your own life with objective curiosity all the time… ― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath. (Anchor; Unabridged edition October 17, 2000)
The darkness is leaking from the cracks. I cannot contain it. I cannot contain my life. — Sylvia Plath, from “Three Women,” The Collected Poems of Sylvia Plath. Edited by Ted Hughes (Harper Perennial Modern Classics; Reprint edition, September 2, 2008) Originally published 1981.
There is this white wall, above which the sky creates itself- Infinite, green, utterly untouchable. Angels swim in it, and the stars, in indifference also. They are my medium. — Sylvia Plath, from “Apprehensions,” The Bell Jar. (Harper Perennial Modern Classics June 11, 2013) Originally published January 14th 1963.
Better that every fiber crack and fury make head, blood drenching vivid couch, carpet, floor and the snake-figured almanac vouching you are a million green counties from here, than to sit mute, twitching so under prickling stars, with stare, with curse blackening the time goodbyes were said, trains let go, and I, great magnanimous fool,… Continue reading Sylvia Plath