Believe in some beneficent force beyond your own limited self. God, god, god: where are you? I want you, need you: the belief in you and love and mankind. Sylvia Plath beliefbeneficentforce Change image and share on social
I am a writer... I am a genius of a writer; I have it in me. I am writing the best poems of my life; they will make my name. Sylvia Plath geniuslifemake Change image and share on social
I think my poems immediately come out of the sensuous and emotional experiences I have. Sylvia Plath emotionalexperienceimmediately Change image and share on social
But life is long. And it is the long run that balances the short flare of interest and passion. Sylvia Plath balanceflareinterest Change image and share on social
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my eyes and all is born again. Sylvia Plath beardeaddrop Change image and share on social
Today is the first of August. It is hot, steamy and wet. It is raining. I am tempted to write a poem. But I remember what it said on one rejection slip: 'After a heavy rainfall, poems titled 'Rain' pour in from across the nation.' Sylvia Plath augustheavyhot share on social
My mother had taught shorthand and typing to support us since my father died, and secretly she hated it and hated him for dying and leaving no money because he didn't trust life insurance salesmen. Sylvia Plath diefatherhate Change image and share on social
Since my woman's world is perceived greatly through the emotions and the senses, I treat it that way in my writing - and am often overweighted with heavy descriptive passages and a kaleidoscope of similes. Sylvia Plath descriptiveemotiongreatly share on social
For a time, I believed not in God nor Santa Claus, but in mermaids. They seemed as logical and possible to me as the brittle twig of a seahorse in the zoo aquarium or the skates lugged up on the lines of cursing Sunday fishermen - skates the shape of old pillowslips with the full, coy lips of women. Sylvia Plath aquariumbelievebrittle share on social
I remember that as I was writing a poem on 'Snow' when I was eight, I said aloud, 'I wish I could have the ability to write down the feelings I have now when I am little, because when I grow up, I will know how to write, but I will have forgotten what being little feels like.' Sylvia Plath abilityaloudfeeling share on social