― Sylvia Plath, The Journals of Sylvia Plath

[text ID: What is my life for and what am I going to do with it? I don't know and I'm afraid.]

So, now I shall talk every night. To myself. To the moon. I shall walk, as I did tonight, jealous of my loneliness, in the blue-silver of the cold moon, shining brilliantly on the drifts of fresh-fallen snow, with the myriad sparkles. I talk to myself and look at the dark trees, blessedly neutral. So much easier than facing people, than having to look happy, invulnerable, clever. With masks down, I walk, talking to the moon, to the neutral impersonal force that does not hear, but merely accepts my being. And does not smite me down."

— Sylvia Plath

(Book: The Journals of Sylvia Plath)

The Journals of Sylvia Plath (July 1950 - July 1953)

Sylvia Plath, Ariel

Happy New Year

Sylvia Plath was a person of many masks, both in her personal life and her writings. Some were camouflage cliché facades, defensive mechanisms, involuntary. And some were deliberate poses, attempts to find the keys to one style or another. These were the visible faces of her lesser selves, her false or provisional selves, the minor roles of her inner drama. Though I spent every day with her for six years, and was rarely separated from her for more than two or three hours at a time, I never saw her show her real self to anybody—except, perhaps, in the last three months of her life. 

Ted Hughes, from ‘The Journals of Sylvia Plath’

Sylvia Plath, 1951

I know pretty much what I like and dislike; but please, don’t ask me who I am.

~ Sylvia Plath

― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

[text ID: You are twenty. You are not dead, although you were dead. The girl who died. And was resurrected. Children. Witches. Magic. Symbols. Remember the illogic of the fantasy.]

Cheers to March and Spring 💗💐💗💐💗💐💗💐💗💐💗

Cheers for spring; for life; for a growing soul.

- Sylvia Plath, The Journals of Sylvia Plath