Sylvia Plath
Sylvia Plath
Sylvia Plathwas one of the most renowned and influential poets, novelists, and short story writers of the 20th century. Born in Boston, Massachusetts, she studied at Smith College and Newnham College at the University of Cambridge before receiving acclaim as a poet and writer. She was married to fellow poet Ted Hughes from 1956 until they separated in September of 1962. They lived together in the United States and then the United Kingdom and had two children, Frieda and Nicholas...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth27 October 1932
CountryUnited States of America
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 to NOT feel, NOT to let the world touch one.
I want to become acutely aware of all I've taken for granted.
Over coffee and orange juice the embryonic suicide brightens visibly.
Let's face it: I'm scared, scared and frozen. First, I guess, I'm afraid for myself...the old primitive urge for survival. It's getting so I live every moment with terrible intensity.
England offers new comforts. I could write a novel there.
If only a group of people were more important to me than the idea of a Novel, I might begin a novel.
That is salvation. To give of love inside. To keep love of life, no matter what, and give to others. Generously.
As a poet I would say everything should be able to come into a poem but I can't put toothbrushes in a poem. I really can't.
I felt like a racehorse in a world without racetracks.
I love life. But it is hard and I have so much, so very much to learn.
I drink sherry and wine by myself because I like it and I get the sensuous feeling of indulgence...luxury, bliss, erotic-tinged.
A fierce brief fusion which dreamers call real, and realists, an illusion; an insight like the flight of birds...
I think I am worthwhile just because I have optical nerves and can try to put down what they perceive. What a fool!
The reason I haven't been writing in this book for so long is partly that I haven't had one decent coherent thought to put down.