Nothing stinks like a pile of unpublished writing.

Quote by Sylvia Plath

Topics: Quotes about Sylvia Plath

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The blood jet is poetry and there is no stopping it.

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I love him to hell and back and heaven and back, and have and do...

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I could feel tears brimming and sloshing in me like water in a glass that...

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Widow. The word consumes itself.

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How frail the human heart must be - a mirrored pool of thought.

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I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my eyes and...

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I talk to God but the sky is empty.

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