Composing from the Quote: Sylvia Plath
I am going to write some quotes about Sylvia Plath in my own words. The quotes about her are mostly from her journal, books, and her life. Each quote has a truthful meaning. It can symbolize her life beyond its true words. Sylvia Plath inspires the people who struggle with their liveliness and even when writing can cope with everything.
“It’s hopeless to ‘get life’ if you don’t keep notebooks.”
There’s a hopeless thought about not keeping a notebook. You’d feel hopeless without the use of keeping a notebook to write along. Without writing it down those thoughts in your head will be kept there. It’s like feeling trapped within.
“Someday, God knows when I will stop this absurd, self-pitying, idle, futile despair.”
Through these self-involvement that affected her life she obtains the knowledge throughout her lifetime. To the absurd life she compromise on. The self-pitying took the turns on her. Idle titled along with it. Futile despair takes the remainder of it.
“Prose writing has become a phobia to me: my mind shuts and I clench.”
There’s phobia in her on prose writing. Her mind shuts down during her phobia stage. She began to clench too. She uses other kinds of writing and other things to control her phobia. It can also get her mind away from it. Her writings are always normal and so creative.
“Today would be an absorbing study if I were good at stream of consciousness. My mind tried every trick to elude the prosaic task at hand.”
Through the absorbing work of her life, she has that good stream of consciousness. With every trick she takes that prosaic task at hand. Her mind plays every trick of it. Putting her knowledge first.
“There is so much hurt in the game of searching for a mate, of testing, trying. And you realize suddenly that you forgot it was a game, and turn away in tears.”
She possesses a difficult time searching for a mate. Finding that turning system. Trying so hard to understand that it was a game. She may bear to turn away in tears. She can do anything and get away with it. She can truly concentrate on herself.
“A sudden slant of bluish light across the floor of a vacant room. And I knew it was not the streetlight, but the moon. What is more wonderful that to be a virgin clean and sound and young, on such a night.”
She felt a light across the base of a vacant room. She notices that it’s not the streetlight, or the moon. The brightness can feel more wonderful to her.
“My mind is barren and I must scavenge themes as a magpie must: scraps and oddments.”
She takes in a barren mind. A thinker that can scavenge through themes as a magpie. She can scrape through oddments. Reaching to a bittersweet bit of life.
Originally published at myjoyousfeature.wordpress.com on March 6, 2017.