When they asked some old Roman philosopher or other how he wanted to die, he said he would open his veins in a warm bath. I thought it would be easy, lying in the tup and seeing the redness flower from my wrists, flush after flush through the clear water, till I sank into sleep under a surface gaudy as poppies.
Sylvia PlathI felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of sceneryโair, mountains, trees, people. I thought, "This is what it is to be happy.
Sylvia PlathI feel occasionally my skull will crack, fatigue is continuous - I only go from less exhausted to more exhausted & back again.
Sylvia PlathI didnโt 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 freeโโ The peacefulness is so big it dazes you, And it asks nothing, a name tag, a few trinkets. It is what the dead close on, finally; I imagine them Shutting their mouths on it, like a Communion tablet.
Sylvia PlathAt this rate, I'd be lucky if I wrote a page a day. Then I knew what the problem was. I needed experience. How could I write about life when I'd never had a love affair or a baby or even seen anybody die? A girl I knew had just won a prize for a short story about her adventures among the pygmies in Africa. How could I compete with that sort of thing?
Sylvia Plath