I am solitary as grass. What is it I miss?Shall I ever find... - Sylvia Plath
"I am solitary as grass. What is it I miss?Shall I ever find it, whatever it is?"
"I am solitary as grass. What is it I miss?Shall I ever find it, whatever it is?"
"Hurl yourself at goals above your head and bear the lacerations that come when you slip and make a fool of yourself. Try always, as long as you have breath in your body, to take the hard way–and work, work, work to build yourself into a rich, continually evolving entity."
"What I fear most, I think, is the death of the imagination."
"I talk to God but the sky is empty."
"Remember, remember, this is now, and now, and now. Live it, feel it, cling to it. I want to become acutely aware of all I’ve taken for granted."
"Is there no way out of the mind?"