I want to write because I have the urge to excell 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. Love is an illusion, but I would willingly fall for it if I could believe in it.
Source:The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath (July 1950 – July 1953)
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