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My childhood landscape was not land but the end of the land - the cold, salt, running hills of the
My childhood landscape was not land but the end of the land - the cold, salt, running hills of the
My childhood landscape was not land but the end of the land - the cold, salt, running hills of the
My childhood landscape was not land but the end of the land - the cold, salt, running hills of the
My childhood landscape was not land but the end of the land - the cold, salt, running hills of the
My childhood landscape was not land but the end of the land - the cold, salt, running hills of the
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Sylvia Plath:
For a time, I believed not in God nor Santa Claus, but in mermaids. They seemed as logical and possSylvia Plath:
Now and then, when I grow nostalgic about my ocean childhood - the wauling of gulls and the smell oSylvia Plath:
Mountains terrify me - they just sit about; they are so proud.Sylvia Plath:
The sea was our main entertainment. When company came, we set them before it on rugs, with thermoseSylvia Plath:
I think the sea swallowed dozens of tea sets - tossed in abandon off liners or consigned to the tidSylvia Plath:
In London the day after Christmas (Boxing Day), it began to snow: my first snow in England. For fivSylvia Plath:
Believe in some beneficent force beyond your own limited self. God, god, god: where are you? I wantSylvia Plath:
Arrogant, I think I have written lines which qualify me to be The Poetess of America (as Ted will bSylvia Plath:
I saw the gooseflesh on my skin. I did not know what made it. I was not cold. Had a ghost passed ovSylvia Plath:
I remember that as I was writing a poem on 'Snow' when I was eight, I said aloud, 'I wish I could h