Sylvia Plath

“August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time.”

“Szeretnék szeretni valakit, mert szeretném, ha szeretnének.”

“Miért ne próbálhatnám föl a különféle életeket éppúgy, mint a ruhákat, hogy lássam, melyik illik rám és hozzám a legjobban?”

“Az vagyok, amit érzek, gondolok és teszek. Szeretném minél teljesebben kifejezni a lényemet, mert valahogy úgy érzem, csak ezzel igazolhatom, hogy élek. Ha az a dolgom, hogy kifejezzem, ami vagyok, kell valami ugródeszka, módszer, életelv- hogy a saját kis gyászos, személyes káoszomból önkényes és ideiglenes szervezetet építsek föl. Csak most kezdek ráébredni, milyen álságos és szűkre szabott is lesz ez az ugródeszka, ez a szabvány. Ez az, amivel olyan nehéz szembenézni.”

“Semmi sem valódi, csak a jelen, és én máris érzem, századok súlya fojtogat. Élt egy lány száz évvel ezelőtt is, mint ahogy én most. Ő halott. Én vagyok a jelen, de tudom, hogy egyszer én is eltűnök. A nagy pillanat, a lángcsóva, jön és megy, véghetetlen futóhomok. Nem akarok meghalni, nem.”

“It never occurred to me to say no.”

“Spiderlike, I spin mirrors,Loyal to my image.”

“I wondered what I thought I was burying.”

“The day I went into physics class it was death.”

“I brought the newspaper close up to my eyes to get a better view of George Pollucci's face, spotlighted like a three-quarter moon against a vague background of brick and black sky. I felt he had something important to tell me, and that whatever it was might just be written on his face.But the smudgy crags of George Pollucci's features melted away as I peered at them, and resolved themselves into a regular pattern of dark and light and medium gray dots.The inky black newspaper paragraph didn't tell why Mr Pollucci was on the ledge, or what Sgt Kilmartin did to him when he finally got him in through the window.”

“I sometimes think my vision of the sea is the clearest thing I own. I pick it up, exile that I am, like the purple ‘lucky stones’ I used to collect with a white ring all the way round, or the shell of a blue mussel with its rainbowy angel’s fingernail interior; and in one wash of memory the colors deepen and gleam, the early world draws breath.”

“...it wouldn't have made one scrap of difference to me, because wherever I sat - on the deck of a ship or at a street café in Paris or Bangkok - I would be sitting under the same glass bell jar, stewing in my own sour air.”

“I, to you, am lost in the gorgeous errors of flesh.”

“Ez volt színes, szélesvásznú álmaim időszaka. Anyám úgy hitte, óriási mennyiségű alvásra van szükségem, így aztán sosem voltam igazán fáradt, amikor lefeküdtem. Ez volt a nap legjobb része, amikor fekhettem a megfoghatatlan félhomályban, félálomban, formálva fejemben tulajdon álmaimat. Repülő álmaim oly hihetőek voltak, akár Dalí tájképei, oly valóságosak, hogy hirtelen összerándulva ébredtem belőlük, azzal a fulladó érzéssel, hogy Ikaroszként hulltam alá az égből, s éppen idejében fogott föl puha ágyam.(Superman és Paula Brown új kezeslábasa)”

“-Tudom – mondta csöndesen Tracy –, de mégis meg fogsz változni, akár akarod, akár nem. Semmi nem marad ugyanaz. Semmi, gondolta Millicent. Milyen rémes is lenne, ha az ember sosem változna… ha az élete végéig az a néhány évvel korábbi, unalmas és szégyenlős Millicent maradna. Szerencsére azonban az ember mindig változik, fejlődik, halad.(Beavatás)”

“From now on when a boy starts telling me about his lost loves I am going to run in the opposite direction screaming loudly... Somehow I bring out such confidences, and I'm pretty sick of hearing about Bobbe or Dorothy or P.K. or Liota. God damn them all.”

“Van valami végleges abban, ahogyan valaki eltűnik lassan az úton, nem fordul meg, nem néz vissza. (…) Van valami végtelenül nyomorúságos, végtelenül végleges az üres útban. Csak mégy tovább, hallgatsz.(Egy júniusi nap)”

“Olyan tökéletes júniusi nap van, amilyet mindig szeretnél leírni, de sosem sikerül. Képzeld el a frissen mosott vászon illatát, az eső után száradó édes fűét, képzeld el a sávokban táncoló napfényt a réten, a mentalevelek ízét a nyelveden, a tulipánok fess ragyogását a kertben, zöld, sárgává fogyó, kékké növekvő árnyak… a vakító fény… a nap forró érintése a bőrödön… a napfény vakító nyílvesszői, amint visszapattannak a víz mély, üveges kékjéről…az elragadtatás… növekvő, szétpattanó buborékok… a sikló mozgás… a víz folyékony éneke az evező nyomán… táncoló színfoltok: mindezt szeretni kell, dédelgetni. Soha többé nem jő ilyen nap!(Egy júniusi nap)”

“Van egy nap, amelyet sosem fogsz elfelejteni, bármennyire próbálod is. Mindig eszedbe jut, amikor eljön a nyár, s már eléggé meleg az idő az evezéshez. Amikor itt az első kéklő júniusi nap, kél az emlék, elevenen, kristálytisztán, mintha könnyeken át látnád…(Egy júniusi nap)”

“Sunt o persoană importantă. Dacă ajungi să mă cunoști, vei vedea ce persoană importantă sunt. Uită-te în ochii mei! Sărută-mă și vei vedea ce persoană importantă sunt!”

“So I am led to one or two choices! Can I write? Will I write if I practice enough? How much should I sacrifice to writing anyway, before I find out if I'm any good? Above all, CAN A SELFISH, EGOCENTRIC, JEALOUS, AND UNIMAGINATIVE FEMALE WRITE A DAMN THING WORTHWHILE? Should I sublimate (my how we throw words around!) my selfishness in serving other people- through social or other such work? Would I then become more sensitive to other people and their problems? Would I be able to write honestly? Then of other beings besides a tall, introspective adolescent girl? I must be in contact with a wide variety of lives if I am not to become submerged in the routine of my own economic strata and class.”

“I cut you out because I couldn't stand being a passing fancy.”

“We danced about a mile apart the whole time, until during “Auld Lang Syne” he suddenly rested his chin on the top of my head as if he were very tired.”

“Privilegiul de a fi oricine își arată și cealaltă față - a presiunii de a fi ca toată lumea și prin urmare - nimeni.”

“Aloneness and selfness are too important to betray for company.”

“It is as if my life were magically run by two electric currents: joyous positive and despairing negative - which ever is running at the moment dominates my life, floods it.”

“Yet I liked him too much… way too much, and I ripped him out of my heart so it wouldn’t get to hurt me more than it did. Oh, he’s magnetic, he’s charming; you could fall into his eyes. Let’s face it: his sex appeal was unbearably strong. I wanted to know him—- the thoughts, the ideas behind the handsome, confident, wisecracking mask… then the friction increased, centered. His nearness was electric in itself. ‘Can’t you see,’ he said. ‘I want to kiss you.’ So he kissed me, hungrily, his eyes shut, his hand warm, curved burning into my stomach. ‘I wish I hated you,’ I said”

“Now, lying on my back in bed, I imagined Buddy saying, ‘Do you know what a poem is, Esther?’‘No, what?’ I would say.‘A piece of dust.’Then just as he was smiling and starting to look proud, I would say, ‘So are the cadavers you cut up. So are the people you think you’re curing. They’re dust as dust as dust. I reckon a good poem lasts a whole lot longer than a hundred of those people put together.’ And of course Buddy wouldn’t have any answer to that, because what I said was true. People were made of nothing so much as dust, and I couldn’t see that doctoring all that dust was a bit better than writing poems people would remember and repeat to themselves when they were unhappy or sick and couldn’t sleep.”

“I dreamed that you bewitched me into bedAnd sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.(I think I made you up inside my head.)--from "Mad Girl's Love Song: A Villanelle", written 1954”

“TB is like living with a bomb in your lungs. You just lie around very quietly hoping it won't go off”

“All, all, becomes profitable. Education is of the most satisfying and available nature. I am at Smith! Which two years ago was a doubtful dream - and that fortuitous change of dream to reality has led me to desire more, and to lash myself onward - onward.”

“Love is a shadow. How you lie and cry after it--from "Elm", written 19 April 1962”

“Why can’t I try on different lives, like dresses, to see which fits best and is more becoming?”

“This is the light of the mind, cold and planetary.The trees of the mind are black. The light is blue.”

“I have fallen a long way. Clouds are floweringBlue and mystical over the face of the starsInside the church, the saints will all be blue,Floating on their delicate feet over the cold pews,Their hands and faces stiff with holiness.The moon sees nothing of this. She is bald and wild.And the message of the yew tree is blackness - blackness and silence.”

“You walked in, laughing, tears welling confused, mingling in your throat. How can you be so many women to so many people, oh you strange girl?”

“I had hoped, at my departure, I would feel sure and knowledgeable about everything that lay ahead -- after all, I had been "analyzed." Instead, all I could see were question marks.”

“For the few little successes I may seem to have, there are acres of misgivings and self-doubt.”

“I felt very low. I had been unmasked only that morning by Jay Cee herself, and I felt now that all the uncomfortable suspicions I had about myself were coming true. After nineteen years of running after good marks and prizes and grants of one sort and another, I was letting up, slowing down, dropping clean out of race.”

“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.”

“How we need that security. How we need another soul to cling to, another body to keep us warm. To rest and trust; to give your soul in confidence: I need this, I need someone to pour myself into.”

“«Credo che mi piacerebbe definirmi la ragazza che voleva essere Dio.»”

“Dziewicza strona, biała. Pierwsza skalana i odrzucona. Wszystkie te marzenia, obietnice: czekanie, aż będę mogła znowu pisać, a potem bolesny, sfuszerowany gwałt na pierwszej kartce.”

“I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in life.”

“A bad dream.To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is the bad dream.A bad dream.I remembered everything.I remembered the cadavers and Doreen and the story of the fig-tree and Marco's diamond and the sailor on the Common and Doctor Gordon's wall-eyed nurse and the broken thermometers and the negro with his two kinds of beans and the twenty pounds I gained on insulin and the rock that bulged between sky and sea like a grey skull.Maybe forgetfulness, like a kind snow, should numb and cover them.But they were part of me. They were my landscape”

“For the first time in my life, sitting there in the sound-proof heart of the UN building between Constantin who could play tennis as well as simultaneously interpret and the Russian girl who knew so many idioms, I felt dreadfully inadequate. The trouble was, I had been inadequate all along, I simply hadn't thought about it.”

“I laid my face to the smooth face of the marble and howled my loss into the cold salt rain.”

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

“The slime of all my yesterdays rots in the hollow of my skull.”

“The same thing happened over and over: I would catch sight of some flawless man in the distance, but as soon as he moved closer I immediately saw he wouldn’t do at all.”