Sylvia Plath Quotes About Writing

• Y, por cierto, todo en la vida es escribible si se tienen las agallas para hacerlo y la imaginación para improvisar. El peor enemigo de la creatividad es la duda.

  Sylvia Plath

  Vida, Triste, Escribir

  Sylvia Plath (2013). "The Journals of Sylvia Plath", p.85, Anchor

• Let me live, love and say it well in good sentences.

  Sylvia Plath

  Writing, Feminism, Classic

  Sylvia Plath (2007). “The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath”, p.184, Anchor

• Tengo envidia de los que piensan más profundamente, de los que escriben mejor, de los que dibujan mejor, de los que esquían mejor, de los que tienen mejor aspecto, de los que viven mejor, de los que aman mejor que yo.

  Sylvia Plath

  Jealous, Writing, Thinking

  Sylvia Plath (2013). “The Journals of Sylvia Plath”, p.20, Anchor

• El peor enemigo de la creatividad es la duda.

  Sylvia Plath

  Inspiración, Vida, Belleza

  Sylvia Plath (2007). "The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath", p.545, Anchor

• Sólo escribo porque hay una voz dentro de mí que no se calla.

  Sylvia Plath

  Escritura, Voz, Fotogramas

  Sylvia Plath (2011). "Cartas a casa", p.56, Faber & Faber

• Nothing stinks like a pile of unpublished writing.

  Sylvia Plath

  Success, Writing, Stink

  Barry Kyle, Sylvia Plath (1976). “Sylvia Plath, a Dramatic Portrait: Conceived and Adapted from Her Writings, by Barry Kyle”

• Siempre me interesó la prosa. De adolescente, publicaba relatos cortos. Y siempre quise escribir el cuento largo, quería escribir una novela. Ahora que he alcanzado, digamos, una edad respetable, y he tenido experiencias, me siento mucho más interesado en la prosa, en la novela. Siento que en una novela, por ejemplo, puedes meter cepillos de dientes y toda la parafernalia que uno encuentra en la vida cotidiana, y eso me resulta más difícil en la poesía.

  Sylvia Plath

  Adolescente, Escribir, Largo

  Fuente: www.english.illinois.edu

• Why honey, don't you want to get dressed?" My mother took care never to tell me to do anything. She would only reason with me sweetly, like one intelligent, mature person with another. It's almost three in the afternoon." I'm writing a novel," I said. "I haven't got time to change into this and change into that.

  Sylvia Plath

  Mother, Writing, Intelligent

  Sylvia Plath (2016). “The Bell Jar”, p.62, Hamilton Books

• I want to write because I have the urge to excel in one medium of translation and expression of life. I can't be satisfied with the colossal job of merely living. Oh, no, I must order life in sonnets and sestinas and provide a verbal reflector for my 60-watt lighted head.

  Sylvia Plath

  Jobs, Writing, Expression

  Sylvia Plath (2013). “The Journals of Sylvia Plath”, p.81, Anchor

• At this rate, I'd be lucky if I wrote a page a day. Then I knew what the problem was. I needed experience. How could I write about life when I'd never had a love affair or a baby or even seen anybody die? A girl I knew had just won a prize for a short story about her adventures among the pygmies in Africa. How could I compete with that sort of thing?

  Sylvia Plath

  Girl, Baby, Writing

  sylvia plath (1971). "el tarro de la campana"

• We stayed at home to write, to consolidate our outstretched selves.

  Sylvia Plath

  Life, Home, Writing

• Hay cosas sobre las que es difícil escribir. Después de que te ocurra algo, vas a escribirlo y, o bien lo dramatizas demasiado, o le quitas importancia, exageras las partes equivocadas o ignoras las importantes. En cualquier caso, nunca lo escribes como quieres.

  Sylvia Plath

  Inspiración, Escritura, Importante

  Sylvia Plath (2007). "The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath", p.10, Anchor

• Sure, I’m dramatic and sloppily semi-cynical and semi-sentimental. But, in leisure years I could grow and choose my way. Now I am living on the edge. We all are on the brink, and it takes a lot of nerve, a lot of energy, to teeter on the edge, looking over, looking down into the windy blackness and not being quite able to make out, through the yellow, stinking mist, just what lies below in the slime, in the oozing, vomit-streaked slime; and so I could go on, my thoughts, writing much, trying to find the core, the meaning for myself.

  Sylvia Plath

  Mentir, Escribir, Años

  Sylvia Plath (2007). “The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath”, p.32, Anchor

• So you got rid of your astonishment that someone could write so much more dynamically than you. You stopped cherishing your aloneness and poetic differentness to your delicately flat little bosom. You said: she's to good to forget. How about making her a friend and competitor — you could learn alot from her. So you'll try. So maybe she'll laugh in your face. So maybe she'll beat you hollow in the end. So anyhow, you'll try, and maybe, possibly, she can stand you. Here's hoping!

  Sylvia Plath

  Writing, Laughing, Trying

• I cannot life for life itself: but for the words which stay the flux. My life, I feel, will not be lived until there are books and stories which relive it perpetually in time. I forget too easily how it was, and shrink to the horror of the here and now, with no past and no future. Writing breaks open the vaults of the dead and the skies behind which the prophesying angels hide. The mind makes and makes, spinning its web.

  Sylvia Plath

  Libro, Escritura, Angel

  Sylvia Plath (2007). “The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath”, p.286, Anchor

• Why am I obsessed with the idea I can justify myself by getting manuscripts published? Is it an escape-an excuse for any social failure-so I can say "No, I don't go out for many extracurricular activities, but I spend a lot of time writing."

  Sylvia Plath

  Writing, Ideas, Excuse

  Sylvia Plath (2013). “The Journals of Sylvia Plath”, p.33, Anchor

• The thing about writing is not to talk, but to do it; no matter how bad or even mediocre it is, the process and production is the thing, not the sitting and theorizing about how one should write ideally, or how well one could write if one really wanted to or had the time.

  Sylvia Plath

  Writing, Sitting, Matter

  Sylvia Plath (2011). “Letters Home”, p.220, Faber & Faber

• ... stop trying to get me to write about 'decent courageous people' -- read the Ladies' Home Journal for those! ... I believe in going through and facing the worst, not hiding from it.

  Sylvia Plath

  Believe, Home, Writing

  Sylvia Plath Aurelia Schober Plath (1975). "Cartas a casa: correspondencia, 1950-1963", HarperCollins Publishers

• ¿Me preguntan por qué me paso la vida escribiendo? ¿Me entretiene? ¿Merece la pena? Sobre todo, ¿me compensa? Si no es así, ¿hay alguna razón?... Escribo sólo porque hay una voz dentro de mí. Eso no va a estar quieto.

  Sylvia Plath

  Inspiración, Vida, Belleza

  Sylvia Plath (2011). "Cartas a casa", p.56, Faber & Faber

• Very depressed today. Unable to write a thing. Menacing gods. I feel outcast on a cold star, unable to feel anything but an awful helpless numbness.

  Sylvia Plath

  Depression, Stars, Writing

  Sylvia Plath (2000). "The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath, 1950-1962", Anchor

• I must be lean & write & make worlds beside this to live in.

  Sylvia Plath

  Writing, World

  Sylvia Plath (2013). “The Journals of Sylvia Plath”, p.157, Anchor

• Can a selfish egocentric jealous and unimaginative female write a damn thing worthwhile?

  Sylvia Plath

  Jealousy, Selfish, Writing

  Sylvia Plath, Ted Hughes, Frances Monson McCullough (1991). "Los diarios de Sylvia Plath"

• Then I decided I would spend the summer writing a novel. That would fix a lot of people.

  Sylvia Plath

  Summer, Writing, People

  Sylvia Plath (2016). “The Bell Jar”, p.62, Hamilton Books

• La vida no era estar sentado en un ocio amorfo y caliente en mi patio trasero, escribiendo o no escribiendo, según me moviera el espíritu. Era, por el contrario, correr alocadamente, en una apretada agenda, en una jaula de ardillas de gente ocupada. Trabajando, viviendo, bailando, soñando, hablando, besando, cantando, riendo, aprendiendo.

  Sylvia Plath

  Running, Dream, Writing

  Sylvia Plath (2007). “The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath”, p.118, Anchor

• Today is the first of August. It is hot, steamy and wet. It is raining. I am tempted to write a poem. But I remember what it said on one rejection slip: 'After a heavy rainfall, poems titled 'Rain' pour in from across the nation.

  Sylvia Plath

  Rain, Writing, August

  Sylvia Plath (2007). “The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath”, p.9, Anchor

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