Dion > Dion's Quotes

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  • #1
    Sylvia Plath
    “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.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #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
    “I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
    I lift my lids and all is born again.
    (I think I made you up inside my head.)”
    Sylvia Plath

  • #4
    Sylvia Plath
    “The silence depressed me. It wasn't the silence of silence. It was my own silence.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

  • #5
    Sylvia Plath
    “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.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #6
    Sylvia Plath
    “Yes, I was infatuated with you: I am still. No one has ever heightened such a keen capacity of physical sensation in me. I cut you out because I couldn't stand being a passing fancy. Before I give my body, I must give my thoughts, my mind, my dreams. And you weren't having any of those.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #7
    Sylvia Plath
    “Is there no way out of the mind?”
    Sylvia Plath

  • #8
    Sylvia Plath
    “I desire the things which will destroy me in the end.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #9
    Sylvia Plath
    “We should meet in another life, we should meet in air, me and you.”
    Sylvia Plath

  • #10
    Sylvia Plath
    “I talk to God but the sky is empty.”
    Sylvia Plath

  • #11
    Sylvia Plath
    “I must get my soul back from you; I am killing my flesh without it.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #12
    Sylvia Plath
    “How we need another soul to cling to.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #13
    Sylvia Plath
    “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.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

  • #14
    Sylvia Plath
    “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.”
    Sylvia Plath, Ariel

  • #15
    Sylvia Plath
    “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?”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #16
    Sylvia Plath
    “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.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

  • #17
    Sylvia Plath
    “I don’t care about anyone, and the feeling is quite obviously mutual.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #18
    Sylvia Plath
    “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.”
    Sylvia Plath, Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #19
    Sylvia Plath
    “I want to be important. By being different. And these girls are all the same.”
    Sylvia Plath

  • #20
    Sylvia Plath
    “I felt wise and cynical as all hell.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

  • #21
    Sylvia Plath
    “But when it came right down to it, the skin of my wrist looked so white and defensless that I couldn't do it. It was as if what I wanted to kill wasn't in that skin or the thin blue pulse that jumped under my thumb, but somewhere else, deeper, more secret, and a whole lot harder to get.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

  • #22
    Sylvia Plath
    “I couldn’t see the point of getting up. I had nothing to look forward to.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

  • #23
    Sylvia Plath
    “The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #24
    Sylvia Plath
    “I didn't know why I was going to cry, but I knew that if anybody spoke to me or looked at me too closely the tears would fly out of my eyes and the sobs would fly out of the throat and I'd cry for a week.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

  • #25
    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

  • #26
    Sylvia Plath
    “Yes, my consuming desire is to mingle with road crews, sailors and soldiers, barroom regulars—to be a part of a scene, anonymous, listening, recording—all this is spoiled by the fact that I am a girl, a female always supposedly in danger of assault and battery. My consuming interest in men and their lives is often misconstrued as a desire to seduce them, or as an invitation to intimacy. Yes, God, I want to talk to everybody as deeply as I can. I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night...”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #27
    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

  • #28
    Sylvia Plath
    “How frail the human heart must be―a mirrored pool of thought.”
    Sylvia Plath, Letters Home

  • #29
    Sylvia Plath
    “If I didn't think, I'd be much happier; if I didn't have any sex organs, I wouldn't waver on the brink of nervous emotion and tears all the time. ”
    Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

  • #30
    Sylvia Plath
    “Ever since I was small I loved feeling somebody comb my hair. It made me go all sleepy and peaceful.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar



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