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Sylvia Plath

"I am helpless as the sea at the end of her string. I am restless. Restless and useless. I, too, create corpses."

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"I am helpless as the sea at the end of her string. I am restless. Restless and useless. I, too, create corpses."

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Charlotte Eriksson

"You may not know it, but at the far end of despair, there is a white clearing where one is almost happy."

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Charlotte Eriksson

"Despair is the source of all evil."

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Charlotte Eriksson

"Kalganov ran back into the front hall, sat down in a corner, bent his head, covered his face with his hands, and began to cry. He sat like that and cried for a long time--cried as though he were still a little boy and not a man of twenty... 'What are these people, what sort of people can there be after this!' he kept exclaiming incoherently, in bitter dejection, almost in despair. At that moment he did not even want to live in the world. 'Is it worth it, is it worth it!' the grieved young man kept exclaiming."

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Charlotte Eriksson

"I wish to weepbut sorrow isstupid.I wish to believebut belief is agraveyard."

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Charlotte Eriksson

"People suicide because of the board rules, they don't like it. So people suicide, they don't see any other out of this place!"

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Charlotte Eriksson

"Those who commit suicide, pensive, lonely, philosophers, are awake in life, which is a serious crime. In life everybody must be asleep."

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Charlotte Eriksson

"And ask each passenger to tell his story, and if there is one of them all who has not cursed his existence many times, and said to himself over and over again that he was the most miserable of men, I give you permission to throw me head-first into the sea."

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Charlotte Eriksson

"All of a sudden I became aware of a little star in one of those patches and I began looking at it intently. That was because the little star gave me an idea: I made up my mind to kill myself that night. I had made up my mind to kill myself already two months before and, poor as I am, I bought myself an excellent revolver and loaded it the same day. But two months had elapsed and it was still lying in the drawer. I was so utterly indifferent to everything that I was anxious to wait for the moment when I would not be so indifferent and then kill myself. Why -- I don't know."

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Charlotte Eriksson

"After some time he felt for his pipe. It was not broken, and that was something. Then he felt for his pouch, and there was some tobacco in it, and that was something more. Then he felt for matches and he could not find any at all, and that shattered his hopes completely."

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Charlotte Eriksson

"My body rises with the water. Instead of kicking my feet to stay abreast of it, I push all the air from my lungs and sink to the bottom. The water muffles my ears. I feel its movement over my face. I think about snorting the water into my lungs so it kills me faster, but I can't bring myself to do it. I blow bubbles from my mouth. Relax. I close my eyes. My lungs burn."

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Sylvia Plath
"But life is long. And it is the long run that balances the short flare of interest and passion."

Time

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Sylvia Plath
"Dying is an art, like everything else. I do it exceptionally well. I do it so it feels like hell. I do it so it feels real. I guess you could say I've a call."

Humor

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Sylvia Plath
"Apparently, the most difficult feat for a Cambridge male is to accept a woman not merely as feeling, not merely as thinking, but as managing a complex, vital interweaving of both."

Relationship

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Sylvia Plath
"Widow. The word consumes itself."

Relationship

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Sylvia Plath
"And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt."

Creativity

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Sylvia Plath
"There must be quite a few things that a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them."

Health

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Sylvia Plath
"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my eyes and all is born again."

Hope

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Sylvia Plath
"I took a deep breath and listened to the old bray of my heart. I am. I am. I am."

Life

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Sylvia Plath
"The blood jet is poetry and there is no stopping it."

Creativity

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Sylvia Plath
"Nothing stinks like a pile of unpublished writing."

Writing

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