I felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery—air, moun... - Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

"I wanted to crawl in between those black lines of print, the way you crawl through a fence, and go to sleep under that beautiful big green fig-tree."

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

"But when it came right down to it, the skin of my wrist looked so white and defensless that I couldn't do it. It was as if what I wanted to kill wasn't in that skin or the thin blue pulse that jumped under my thumb, but somewhere else, deeper, more secret, and a whole lot harder to get."

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

"The trouble about jumping was that if you didn't pick the right number of storeys, you might still be alive when you hit bottom."