"Please don’t expect me to always be good and kind and loving. There are times when I will be cold and thoughtless and hard to understand."
"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?"
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Source: sylvia plath (1971). “the bell jar”
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