Sylvia Plath quotes

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Is there no way out of the mind?
Godiva, I unpeel--
Dead hands, dead stringencies.
God's lioness,
How one we grow,
Pivot of heels and knees!--
Am the arrow,
I come to one bush of berries so ripe it is a bush of flies,
Hanging their bluegreen bellies and their wing panes in a Chines
Big as the ball of my thumb, and dumb as eyes
a great space
Of white and pewter lights, and a din like silversmiths
Beating and beating at an intractable metal.
Miracles occur,
if you care to call those spasmodic
I only know that a rook
Ordering its black feathers can so shine
A certain minor light may still
Leap incandescent
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