Haley > Haley's Quotes

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  • #1
    Shannon L. Alder
    “Sometimes the bridges you burn light the way out of your darkness, but the memory of the blaze will be burned into your heart and mind forever.”
    Shannon L. Alder

  • #2
    Sylvia Plath
    “I have the choice of being constantly active and happy or introspectively passive and sad. Or I can go mad by ricocheting in between.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #3
    Sylvia Plath
    “How we need another soul to cling to, another body to keep us warm. To rest and trust; to give your soul in confidence: I need this, I need someone to pour myself into.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #4
    Sylvia Plath
    “And the danger is that in this move toward new horizons and far directions, that I may lose what I have now, and not find anything except loneliness.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #5
    Sylvia Plath
    “The blood of love welled up in my heart with a slow pain. ”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #6
    Sylvia Plath
    “Please let him come, and give me the resilience & guts to make him respect me, be interested, and not to throw myself at him with loudness or hysterical yelling; calmly, gently, easy baby easy. He is probably strutting the backs among crocuses now with seven Scandinavian mistresses. And I sit, spiderlike, waiting, here, home; Penelope weaving webs of Webster, turning spindles of Tourneur. Oh, he is here; my black marauder; oh hungry hungry. I am so hungry for a big smashing creative burgeoning burdened love: I am here; I wait; and he plays on the banks of the river Cam like a casual faun. ”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #7
    Sylvia Plath
    “I want so obviously, so desperately to be loved, and to be capable of love.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #8
    Sylvia Plath
    “I lay and cried, and began to feel again, to admit I was human, vulnerable, sensitive. I began to remember how it had been before; how there was that germ of positive creativeness. Character is fate; and damn, I'd better work on my character. I had been withdrawing into a retreat of numbness: it is so much safer not to feel, not to let the world touch one. But my honest self revolted at this, hated me for doing this. Sick with conflict, destructive negative emotions, frozen into disintegration I was, refusing to articulate, to spew forth these emotions - they festered in me, growing big, distorted, like pus-bloated sores. Small problems, mentions of someone else's felicity, evidence of someone else's talents, frightened me, making me react hollowly, fighting jealousy, envy, hate. Feeling myself fall apart, decay, rot, and the laurels wither and fall away, and my past sins and omissions strike me with full punishment and import. All this, all this foul, gangrenous, sludge ate away at my insides. Silent, insidious.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #9
    Sylvia Plath
    “I wait and ache.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #10
    Elizabeth Wurtzel
    “That is all I want in life: for this pain to seem purposeful.”
    Elizabeth Wurtzel, Prozac Nation

  • #11
    J.D. Salinger
    “This fall I think you're riding for—it's a special kind of fall, a horrible kind. The man falling isn't permitted to feel or hear himself hit bottom. He just keeps falling and falling. The whole arrangement's designed for men who, at some time or other in their lives, were looking for something their own environment couldn't supply them with. Or they thought their own environment couldn't supply them with. So they gave up looking. They gave it up before they ever really even got started.”
    J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye

  • #12
    Sylvia Plath
    “I can't deceive myself that out of the bare stark realization that no matter how enthusiastic you are, no matter how sure that character is fate, nothing is real, past or future, when you are alone in your room with the clock ticking loudly into the false cheerful brilliance of the electric light. 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.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #13
    Sylvia Plath
    “I want to be important. By being different. And these girls are all the same.”
    Sylvia Plath

  • #14
    Sylvia Plath
    “I want to taste and glory in each day, and never be afraid to experience pain; and never shut myself up in a numb core of nonfeeling, or stop questioning and criticizing life and take the easy way out. To learn and think: to think and live; to live and learn: this always, with new insight, new understanding, and new love.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #15
    Sylvia Plath
    “And what is happy? It is a going always on. There is something better to be done than I have done, and spurred by the fair delusion of progress, I will seek to progress, to whip myself on, to more and more- to learning. Always.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #16
    Sylvia Plath
    “Let me not be weak and tell others how bleeding I am internally; how day by day it drips, and gathers, and congeals.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #17
    Sylvia Plath
    “Reality is what I make it. That is what I have said I believed. Then I look at the hell I am wallowing in, nerves paralyzed, action nullified - fear, envy, hate: all the corrosive emotions of insecurity biting away at my sensitive guts. Time, experience: the colossal wave, sweeping tidal over me, drowning, drowning. How can I ever find that permanence, that continuity with past and future, that communication with other human beings that I crave? Can I ever honestly accept an artificial imposed solution? How can I justify, how can I rationalize the rest of my life away?”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #18
    Sylvia Plath
    “Hard, sharp, ticks. I hate them. Measuring thought, infinite space, by cogs and wheels. 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.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #19
    Sylvia Plath
    “With me, the present is forever and forever is always shifting, flowing, melting. This second is life. And when it is gone it is dead. But you can’t start over with each new second. You have to judge by what is dead. It’s like quicksand…hopeless from the start. A story, a picture, can renew sensation a little, but not enough, not enough. Nothing is real except the present, and already, I feel the weight of centuries smothering me. Some girl a hundred years ago lived as I do. And she is dead. I am the present, but I know I, too, will pass. The high moment, the burning flash, come and are gone, continuous quicksand. And I don’t want to die.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
    tags: life

  • #20
    “Somewhere along the way we all go a bit mad. So burn, let go and dive into the horror, because maybe it’s the chaos which helps us find where we belong.”
    robert m drake

  • #21
    “I had to learn to live without you and I couldn't make sense of it, because I left so much of me inside of you.”
    robert m drake

  • #22
    “She was broken from moment to moment, watching her world collide she felt lost inside herself. She fell apart for a passion that flamed beneath her. She waited and died a hundred times, it dripped from her pores. The moment she let go, she soared over the stillness like the star she was born to be.”
    robert m drake

  • #23
    “Madness and chaos are self-destructing but over thinking is the suicide.”
    robert m drake



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