Famous Quotes of Poet Sylvia Plath

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The moon is door. It is a face in its own right,
White as a knuckle and terribly upset.
It drags the sea after it like a dark crime; it is quiet
With the O-gape of complete despair.

(Sylvia Plath (1932-1963), U.S. poet. The Moon and the Yew Tree (l. 8-11). . . The Collected Poems [Sylvia Plath]. Ted Hughes, ed. (1981) HarperCollins.)
Thirty years now I have labored
To dredge the silt from your throat.
I am none the wiser.

(Sylvia Plath (1932-1963), U.S. poet. The Colossus (l. 8-10). . . The Collected Poems [Sylvia Plath]. Ted Hughes, ed. (1981) HarperCollins.)
The trees of the mind are black.

(Sylvia Plath (1932-1963), U.S. poet. The Moon and the Yew Tree (l. 2). . . The Collected Poems [Sylvia Plath]. Ted Hughes, ed. (1981) HarperCollins.)
One cry, and I stumble from bed, cow-heavy and floral
In my Victorian nightgown.

(Sylvia Plath (1932-1963), U.S. poet. Morning Song (l. 13-14). . . The Collected Poems [Sylvia Plath]. Ted Hughes, ed. (1981) HarperCollins.)
Widow. The word consumes itself ...

(Sylvia Plath (1932-1963), U.S. poet. Crossing the Water. Widow (1971).)
a great space
Of white and pewter lights, and a din like silversmiths
Beating and beating at an intractable metal.

(Sylvia Plath (1932-1963), U.S. poet. Blackberrying (l. 25-27). . . The Collected Poems [Sylvia Plath]. Ted Hughes, ed. (1981) HarperCollins.)
Mute as a turnip from the Fourth
Of July to All Fools' Day,
O high-riser, my little loaf.

(Sylvia Plath (1932-1963), U.S. poet. You're (l. 7-9). . . The Collected Poems [Sylvia Plath]. Ted Hughes, ed. (1981) HarperCollins.)
She is very clever.
She is old, old, old, she must live another year, and she knows it.
While in their fingerjoint cells the new virgins

Dream of a duel they will win inevitably,

(Sylvia Plath (1932-1963), U.S. poet. The Bee Meeting (l. 43-46). . . The Collected Poems [Sylvia Plath]. Ted Hughes, ed. (1981) HarperCollins.)
All morning the
Morning has been blackening,

A flower left out.

(Sylvia Plath (1932-1963), U.S. poet. Sheep in Fog (l. 8-10). . . The Collected Poems [Sylvia Plath]. Ted Hughes, ed. (1981) HarperCollins.)
A certain minor light may still
Leap incandescent

Out of kitchen table or chair
As if a celestial burning took
Possession of the most obtuse objects now and then?

(Sylvia Plath (1932-1963), U.S. poet. Black Rook in Rainy Weather (l. 14-18). . . The Collected Poems [Sylvia Plath]. Ted Hughes, ed. (1981) HarperCollins.)