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Sylvia Plath
“I didn’t want any flowers, I only wanted
to lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty.
How free it is, you have no idea how free.”
Sylvia Plath, Ariel

Sylvia Plath
“Perhaps some day I'll crawl back home, beaten, defeated. But not as long as I can make stories out of my heartbreak, beauty out of sorrow.”
Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

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

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

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

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