Ah yes, my life’s a compromise — all a compromise.
― Virginia Woolf, from a diary entry (via violentwavesofemotion)
For most of history, Anonymous was a woman.
Virginia Woolf (via words-and-coffee)
It is a thousand pities never to say what one feels.
― Virginia Woolf, from Mrs. Dalloway (via violentwavesofemotion)
What horrifies me most is the idea of being useless: well-educated, brilliantly promising, and fading out into an indifferent middle age.

Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

Reposting because it’s painfully relevant to me recently.

(via thesharpiemarkerapproach)

That’s one of the reasons I never wanted to get married. The last thing I wanted was infinite security and to be the place an arrow shoots off from. I wanted change and excitement and to shoot off in all directions myself, like the coloured arrows from a Fourth of July rocket.
― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar (via etpmy)
And I knew that in spite of all the roses and kisses and restaurant dinners a man showered on a woman before he married her, what he secretly wanted when the wedding service ended was for her to flatten out underneath his feet like Mrs. Willard’s kitchen mat.
The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath  (via theforgottengopher)