Sylvia Plath Quotes About Moon

Quotes about: Moon

• So, now I shall talk every night. To myself. To the moon. I shall walk, as I did tonight, jealous of my loneliness, in the blue-silver of the cold moon, shining brilliantly on the drifts of fresh-fallen snow, with the myriad sparkles. I talk to myself and look at the dark trees, blessedly neutral. So much easier than facing people, than having to look happy, invulnerable, clever.

  Sylvia Plath

  Clever, Loneliness, Jealous

  Sylvia Plath (2007). “The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath”, p.200, Anchor

• There is a certain unique and strange delight about walking down an empty street alone. There is an off-focus light cast by the moon, and the streetlights are part of the spotlight apparatus on a bare stage set up for you to walk through. You get a feeling of being listened to, so you talk aloud, softly, to see how it sounds.

  Sylvia Plath

  Unique, Moon, Light

  Sylvia Plath (2007). “The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath”, p.54, Anchor

• I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again. (I think I made you up inside my head.) The stars go waltzing out in blue and red, And arbitrary blackness gallops in: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane. (I think I made you up inside my head.)

  Sylvia Plath

  Stars, Eye, Moon

  sylvia plath (1971). “the bell jar”

• I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane. (I think I made you up inside my head.)

  Sylvia Plath

  Moon, Thinking, Insane

  sylvia plath (1971). “the bell jar”

• If the moon smiled, she would resemble you. You leave the same impression Of something beautiful, but annihilating.

  Sylvia Plath

  Beautiful, Moon, Impression

  Sylvia Plath (2010). “Ariel”, p.45, Faber & Faber

• The moon is no door. It is a face in its own right, White as a knuckle and terribly upset. It drags the sea after it like a dark crime; it is quiet With the O-gape of complete despair. I live here.

  Sylvia Plath

  Dark, Moon, Doors

  Sylvia Plath (2015). “Collected Poems”, p.153, Faber & Faber

• I do not want a plain box, I want a sarcophagus
  With tigery stripes, and a face on it
  Round as the moon, to stare up.
  I want to be looking at them when they come
  Picking among the dumb minerals, the roots.
  I see them already-the pale, star-distance faces.
  Now they are nothing, they are not even babies.
  I imagine them without fathers or mothers, like the first gods.
  They will wonder if I was important.

  Sylvia Plath

  Mother, Baby, Stars

• My thoughts are crabbed and sallow,
  My tears like vinegar,
  Or the bitter blinking yellow
  Of an acetic star.
  Tonight the caustic wind, love,
  Gossips late and soon,
  And I wear the wry-faced pucker of
  The sour lemon moon.
  While like an early summer plum,
  Puny, green, and tart,
  Droops upon its wizened stem
  My lean, unripened heart.

  Sylvia Plath

  Broken Heart, Summer, Stars

  Sylvia Plath (2015). “Collected Poems”, p.266, Faber & Faber

• The moon, too, abases her subjects, but in the daytime she is ridiculous. Your dissatisfactions, on the other hand, arrive through the mailslot with loving regularity, white and blank, expansive as carbon monoxide. No day is safe from news of you, walking about in Africa maybe, but thinking of me.

  Sylvia Plath

  Broken Heart, Moon, Thinking

  Sylvia Plath (2010). “Ariel”, p.45, Faber & Faber

• I wish to cry. Yet, I laugh, and my lipstick leaves a red stain like a bloody crescent moon on top of the beer can

  Sylvia Plath

  Beer, Moon, Laughing

• The moon has nothing to be sad about,
  Staring from her hood of bone.
  She is used to this sort of thing.
  Her blacks crackle and drag.

  Sylvia Plath

  Moon, Darkness, Bones

  Sylvia Plath (2015). “Collected Poems”, p.224, Faber & Faber

• The moon, also, is merciless: she would drag me
  Cruelly, being barren.
  Her radiance scathes me. Or perhaps I have caught her.

  Sylvia Plath

  Moon, Light, Radiance

  Sylvia Plath (2010). “Ariel”, p.18, Faber & Faber

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