Rosalina Silva

“Last summer’s reeds are all engraved in ice as is your image in my eye; dry frost glazes the window of my hurt; what solace can be struck from rock to make heart’s waste grow green again? Who’d walk in this bleak place?”
― Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems

“I may never be happy, but tonight I am content. Nothing more than an empty house, the warm hazy weariness from a day spent setting strawberry runners in the sun, a glass of cool sweet milk, and a shallow dish of blueberries bathed in cream. Now I know how people can live without books, without college. When one is so tired at the end of a day one must sleep, and at the next dawn there are more strawberry runners to set, and so one goes on living, near the earth. At times like this I’d call myself a fool to ask for more …”
― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

“I’ve always made a point of not wasting my life, and everytime I come back here I know that all I’ve done is to waste my life.”
― Arthur Miller, Death of a Salesman: Certain Private Conversations in Two Acts and a Requiem

“I had worked hard for nearly two years, for the sole purpose of infusing life into an inanimate body. For this I had deprived myself of rest and health. I had desired it with an ardour that far exceeded moderation; but now that I had finished, the beauty of the dream vanished, and breathless horror and disgust filled my heart.”
― Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, Frankenstein