I hadn't, at the last moment, felt like washing off the two diagonal lines of dried blood that marked my cheeks. They seemed touching, and rather spectacular, and I thought I would carry them around with me, like the relic of a dead lover, till they wore off of their own accord.
("The Bell Jar")
More Quotes from Sylvia Plath:
I cannot contain my life.Sylvia Plath
Sulfurous adulteries grieve in a dream.
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No rings through the nose, no cries.
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But my god, the clouds are like cotton.
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Tree and Stone glittered, without shadows.My finger-length grew lucent as glass.I started to bud like a March twigAn arm and a leg, an arm, a leg.From stone to cloud, so I ascended.
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But when I took up my pen, my hand made big, jerky letters like those of a child, and the lines sloped down the page from left to right horizontally, as if they were loops of string lying on the paper, and someone had come along and blown them askew.
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