Being A Woman Quotes - Page 13

• Kiss me and you will see how important I am.

  Sylvia Plath

  Kissing, Feminism, Important

  Sylvia Plath (2007). “The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath”, p.197, Anchor

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• 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

  Life, Sad, Writing

  Sylvia Plath (2013). “The Journals of Sylvia Plath”, p.85, Anchor

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• 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

  Sadness, Mad, Choices

  Sylvia Plath (2013). “The Journals of Sylvia Plath”, p.24, Anchor

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• Let me live, love and say it well in good sentences.

  Sylvia Plath

  Writing, Feminism, Classic

  Sylvia Plath (2007). “The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath”, p.184, Anchor

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• If you expect nothing from anybody, you’re never disappointed.

  Sylvia Plath

  Expectations, Feminism, Classic

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• I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. I can never train myself in all the skills I want. And why do I want? I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in life. And I am horribly limited.

  Sylvia Plath

  Famous Inspirational, Book, Skills

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• I desire the things that will destroy me in the end.

  Sylvia Plath

  Desire, Feminism, Classic

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• There must be quite a few things that a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them.

  Sylvia Plath

  Inspirational, Sad, Women

  Sylvia Plath (2016). “The Bell Jar”, p.12, Hamilton Books

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• 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

  Moving, Eye, Numbness

  Sylvia Plath (2016). “The Bell Jar”, p.3, Hamilton Books

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• 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

  Loneliness, Dark, Long

  Sylvia Plath (2013). “The Journals of Sylvia Plath”, p.19, Anchor

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• 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

  Heartbreak, Home, Long

  Sylvia Plath (2007). “The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath”, p.23, Anchor

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