The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper,Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of starsLetting in the light, peepho — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper,Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of starsLetting in the light, peepho — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper,Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of starsLetting in the light, peepho — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper,Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of starsLetting in the light, peepho — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper,Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of starsLetting in the light, peepho — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper,Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of starsLetting in the light, peepho — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper,Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of starsLetting in the light, peepho — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper,Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of starsLetting in the light, peepho — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper,Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of starsLetting in the light, peepho — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper,Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of starsLetting in the light, peepho — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper,Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of starsLetting in the light, peepho — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper,Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of starsLetting in the light, peepho — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper,Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of starsLetting in the light, peepho — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper,Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of starsLetting in the light, peepho — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper,Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of starsLetting in the light, peepho — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper,Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of starsLetting in the light, peepho — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper,Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of starsLetting in the light, peepho — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper,Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of starsLetting in the light, peepho — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper,Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of starsLetting in the light, peepho — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper,Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of starsLetting in the light, peepho — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper,Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of starsLetting in the light, peepho — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper,Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of starsLetting in the light, peepho — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper,Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of starsLetting in the light, peepho — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper,Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of starsLetting in the light, peepho — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper,Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of starsLetting in the light, peepho — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper,Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of starsLetting in the light, peepho — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper,Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of starsLetting in the light, peepho — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper,Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of starsLetting in the light, peepho — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper,Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of starsLetting in the light, peepho — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper,Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of starsLetting in the light, peepho — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
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The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper,Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of starsLetting in the light, peephole after peephole--- A bonewhite light, like death, behind all things.

— Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
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More “Death” Quotes

Where they burn books, at the end they also burn people — Heinrich Heine
In any case, this is how all our stories begin, in darkness with our eyes closed, and all our stories end the same way, — Lemony Snicket, The End
I don't say goodbye very easily, Anna. Not gracefully or prettily.Goodbye tears your heart out and leaves it a feast for — Patricia Briggs, Dead Heat
Mama said it's probably because of Suzanne, and that you are never the same after a child dies. That made me wonder what — Nancy E. Turner, These Is My Words: The Diary of Sarah Agnes Prine, 1881-1901
It was the essence of life to disbelieve in death for one's self, to act as if life would continue forever. And life had — Philip José Farmer
La mayoría de la muerte de la gente es una farsa, no queda en ellos nada que pueda morir — Charles Bukowski, The Captain Is Out To Lunch And The Sailors Have Taken Over The Ship
Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon him — Kahlil Gibran
a man was on his way to the gallows when he met another, who asked him: where are you going, my friend? and the condemne — José Saramago, The Year of the Death of Ricardo Reis
Dear as remembered kisses after death,And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feign'dOn lips that are for others; deep as l — Alfred Tennyson
We are graced with a godlike ability to transcend time and space in our minds but are chained to death. — Russell Shorto, Descartes' Bones: A Skeletal History of the Conflict Between Faith and Reason
Song after Battle:As the young men went by I was looking for him. It surprises me anew That he has gone. It is something — Frances Densmore
Conner hadn’t liked leaving the gravesite with his father still not buried. But he’d learned from his grandmother’s fune — Kathleen Jeffrie Johnson, Gone