“What I fear most, I think, is the death of the imagination. When the sky outside is merely pink, and the rooftops merely black: that photographic mind which paradoxically tells the truth, but the worthless truth, about the world. It is that synthesizing spirit, that "shaping" force, which prolifically sprouts and makes up its own worlds with more inventiveness than God which I desire. If I sit still and don't do anything, the world goes on beating like a slack drum, without meaning. We must be moving, working, making dreams to run toward; the poverty of life without dreams is too horrible to imagine.”
Quote by Sylvia Plath
Work
The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
This book presents the extensive and unedited journals of Sylvia Plath, offering a candid and intimate look into her thoughts, experiences, and creative process throughout her life. more
Author
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