But my god, the clouds are like cotton.
(A Birthday Present)
More Quotes from Sylvia Plath:
I am a garden of black and red agonies.Sylvia Plath
The blood jet is poetry and there is no stopping it.
Sylvia Plath
I cannot contain my life.
Sylvia Plath
Is there no way out of the mind?
Sylvia Plath
Is she dead, is she sleeping?
Sylvia Plath
After all I am alive only by accident.
Sylvia Plath
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Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach
When I stop working the rest of the day is posthumous. I'm only really alive when I'm writing.
Tennessee Williams
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Umberto Guidoni