Sylvia Plath

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

Whenever I’m sad I’m going to die, or so nervous I can’t sleep, or in love with somebody I won’t be seeing for a week, I slump down just so far and then I say: “I’ll go take a hot bath.”

I felt very still and very empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel, moving dully along in the middle of the surrounding hullabaloo.

they are all dissolving away and none of them matter any more.

Then I folded the linen napkin and laid it between my lips and brought my lips down on it precisely. When I put the napkin back on the table a fuzzy pink lip shape bloomed right in the middle of it like a tiny heart.

He popped into my house out of the blue one Christmas vacation, wearing a thick white turtleneck sweater and looking so handsome I could hardly stop staring, and said, “I might drop over to see you at college some day, all right?”

If you expect nothing from somebody you are never disappointed.

I felt very still and very empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel, moving dully along in the middle of the surrounding hullabaloo.

My dream was someday ordering a drink and finding out it tasted wonderful.

There is something demoralizing about watching two people get more and more crazy about each other, especially when you are the only extra person in the room.
It’s like watching Paris from an express caboose heading in the opposite direction--every second the city gets smaller and smaller, only you feel it’s really you getting smaller and smaller and lonelier and lonelier, rushing away from all those lights and that excitement at about a million miles an hour.