35 Sylvia Plath quotes to delve into the writer’s inner world

The silence depressed me. It wasn’t the silence of silence. It was my own silence.

Maybe when we find ourselves wanting everything, it’s because we’re dangerously close to wanting nothing.

I close my eyes and the whole world suddenly dies; I open my eyes and everything is born again.

There’s a scream inside me. At night, it goes out with its claws, looking for something to love.

I took a deep breath and listened to the old, proud sound of my heart. I am, I am, I am.

If you don’t expect anything from someone, you will never be disappointed.

We must meet in another life, we must meet in the air, you and I.

I have the choice of being constantly active and happy or introspectively passive and sad. Or I can go crazy bouncing off the middle.

Is there no way out of the mind?

I felt my lungs inflate with the advancing landscape – air, mountains, trees, people. I thought: this is being happy.

For the person inside the glass dome, empty and motionless like a dead baby, the whole world is a bad dream.

There’s something demoralizing about watching two people get more and more crazy about each other, especially when you’re the only person left in the room.

I must get my soul back from you. I’m killing my flesh without it.

And when you finally find someone you feel you can pour out your soul to, you stop in shock at the words you speak.

I talk to God, but the sky is empty.

The problem was, I’d been inadequate all along, I just hadn’t thought about it.

I’m still so naive. I know very well what I like and don’t like. But please don’t ask me who I am. A passionate and fragmentary girl, perhaps?

Maybe one day I’ll crawl back home, defeated, defeated. But not as long as I can make stories of my broken heart, beauty of sadness.

I’ve never met anyone who could accept the daily demonstrative love I feel in me and give back as much as I give.

What did my arms do before they held you?

I write only because there’s a voice inside me that won’t be quiet.

I like people a lot or I don’t. I have to go deep, to get into people, to really get to know them.

Death must be so beautiful. To lie on the soft brown earth, with the grass bouncing above your head, and listen to the silence.

Living with him is like hearing a perpetual story: his mind is the biggest and most creative I’ve ever known. I could live in your growing countries forever.

I think I made you up inside my head.

What horrifies me most is the idea of being useless: well-educated, brilliantly promising and fading into indifferent middle age.

People or stars look at me with sadness, I let them down.

I know very well what I like and don’t like; but please don’t ask me who I am.

I wanted to be where no one I knew could go.

I felt myself melting into the shadows like the negative of a person I had never seen before in my life.

The blood of love welled up in my heart with a slow pain.

How we need another soul to cling to, another body to keep us warm. To rest and trust; to give confidence to your soul: I need this, I need someone to dedicate myself to.