Hannah > Hannah's Quotes

“Burada daha ne kadar öleceğim? Yeryüzüyle gökyüzünün aracısı olarak bulutu haraca kestiğimiz yerde? Ben size alışamam.”
― Nilgün Marmara

“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 are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long. Yes, there is joy, fulfillment and companionship - but the loneliness of the soul in its appalling self-consciousness is horrible and overpowering.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

“How we need another soul to cling to.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

“I like people too much or not at all. I've got to go down deep, to fall into people, to really know them.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

“We'll act as if all this were a bad dream."

A bad dream.

To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is the bad dream.

A bad dream.

I remembered everything.

I remembered the cadavers and Doreen and the story of the fig tree and Marco's diamond and the sailor on the Common and Doctor Gordon's wall-eyed nurse and the broken thermometers and the Negro with his two kinds of beans and the twenty pounds I gained on insulin and the rock that bulged between sky and sea like a gray skull.

Maybe forgetfulness, like a kind snow, would numb and cover them.

But they were part of me. They were my landscape.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

“There is a charge

For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart -
It really goes.

And there is a charge, a very large charge,
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood

Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.

--from "Lady Lazarus", written 23-29 October 1962”
― Sylvia Plath, Ariel: The Restored Edition

“Yabancıların en yakınıydın sen!”
― Nilgün Marmara, Daktiloya Çekilmiş Şiirler

“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.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

“As for me, I am a watercolor.
I wash off.”
― Anne Sexton

“Put your ear down close to your soul and listen hard.”
― Anne Sexton

“Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong! - I have as much soul as you, - and full as much heart! And if God had gifted me with some beauty and much wealth, I should have made it as hard for you to leave me, as it is now for me to leave you!”
― Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

“Bayım; bu gidişleriniz beni şair, sizi şiir yapacak…”
― Didem Madak

“Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all.”
― Emily Dickinson

“Why Do I Love You. Sir?

'Why do I love'You. Sir?
Because-
The Wind does not require the Grass
To answer-Wherefore when He pass
She cannot keep Her place.

Because He knows-and
Do not You-
And We know not-
Enough for Us
The wisdom it be so-

The Lightning-never asked an Eye
Wherefore it struck-when He was by
Because He knows it cannot speak-
And reason not contained-
-Of Talk-
There he preferred by Daintier Folk-

The Sunrise-Sir-compelleth Me-
Because He's Sunrise-and I see-
Therefore-Then-
I love Thee-”
― Emily Dickinson

“He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”
― Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

“Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same”
― Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

“There is nothing on earth like the love of a child that passes unnoticed in the dark because she has no hope: her love is submissive, so much a servant's love, passionate and lying in wait, in a way that the avid yet unconsciously demanding love of a grown woman can never be”
― Stefan Zweig, Letter from an Unknown Woman and Other Stories