Have such a space to cross,
Such coldness, forgetfulness.”
Sylvia Plath’s The Night Dream.
Is an art, like everything else.
I do it exceptionally well.”
Sylvia Plath’s Lady Lazarus.
“I am inhabited by a cry.
Nightly it flaps out
Looking, with its hooks, for something to love.
I am terrified by this dark thing
That sleeps in me;
All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity.”
Sylvia Plath’s Elm.