Quotes from work
Ariel

Ariel
Sylvia Plath

"Ariel" is a poem written by the American poet Sylvia Plath. It was written on her thirtieth birthday, October 27, 1962, and published posthumously in the collection Ariel in 1965, of which it is the namesake. Despite its ambiguity, it is literally understood to describe an early morning horse-ride towards the rising sun. Scholars and literary critics have applied various methods of interpretation to "Ariel".

Sylvia Plath photo

“I am incapable of more knowledge.
What is this, this face
So murderous in its strangle of branches? —

Its snaky acids hiss.
It petrifies the will. These are the isolate, slow faults,
That kill, that kill, that kill.”

Sylvia Plath Ariel

"Elm"
Ariel (1965)

Sylvia Plath photo

“Axes
After whose stroke the wood rings,
And the echoes!
Echoes travelling
Off from the centre like horses.”

Sylvia Plath Ariel

&quot;Words&quot; http://www.angelfire.com/tn/plath/words.html <br class="br">Ariel (1965)

Sylvia Plath photo

“You do not do, you do not do
Any more, black shoe
In which I have lived like a foot
For thirty years, poor and white,
Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.”

Sylvia Plath Ariel

&quot;Daddy&quot; http://www.angelfire.com/tn/plath/daddy.html <br class="br">Ariel (1965)

Sylvia Plath photo

“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 Ariel

"The Moon and the Yew Tree"
Ariel (1965)

Sylvia Plath photo

“There’s a stake in your fat black heart
And the villagers never liked you.
They are dancing and stamping on you.
They always knew it was you.
Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I’m through.”

Sylvia Plath Ariel

"Daddy"
Ariel (1965)

Sylvia Plath photo

“Now your head, excuse me, is empty.
I have the ticket for that.
Come here, sweetie, out of the closet.
Well, what do you think of that?
Naked as paper to start

But in twenty-five years she'll be silver,
In fifty, gold.
A living doll, everywhere you look.
It can sew, it can cook,
It can talk, talk, talk.

It works, there is nothing wrong with it.
You have a hole, it's a poultice.
You have an eye, it's an image.
My boy, it's your last resort.
Will you marry it, marry it, marry it.”

Sylvia Plath Ariel

&quot;The Applicant&quot; http://www.angelfire.com/tn/plath/applicant.html <br class="br">Ariel (1965)