I’ll never speak to God again. - Sylvia Plath

"Life was not to be sitting in hot amorphic leisure in my backyard idly writing or not writing, as the spirit moved me. It was, instead, running madly, in a crowded schedule, in a squirrel cage of busy people. Working, living, dancing, dreaming, talking, kissing- singing, laughing, learning."

"The thought that I might kill myself formed in my mind coolly as a tree or a flower."

"I am solitary as grass. What is it I miss?Shall I ever find it, whatever it is?"

"I have stitched life into me like a rare organ"

"I have stitched life into me like a rare organ"