It is so much safer not to feel, not to let the world touch me.
“
| — | Sylvia Plath (via sealedwithroses) |
Before I give my body, I must give my thoughts, my mind, my dreams. And you weren’t having any of those.
“
| — | Sylvia Plath (via itsphoebers) |
I love people. Everybody. I love them, I think, as a stamp collector loves his collection. Every story, every incident, every bit of conversation is raw material for me. My love’s not impersonal yet not wholly subjective either. I would like to be everyone, a cripple, a dying man, a whore, and then come back to write about my thoughts, my emotions, as that person.
“
| — | Sylvia Plath (via saturday-night-hemorrhagic-fever) |
I want so obviously, so desperately to be loved, and to be capable of love.
“
| — | Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath (via ariannajz) |
Go out and do something. It isn’t your room that’s a prison, it’s yourself.
“
| — | Sylvia Plath (via mermaiddesires) |
What did my fingers do before they held him? What did my heart do, with its love?
“
| — | Sylvia Plath (via iburnblackforyou) |
