Ocupation: Poet
Life: October 27, 1932 - February 11, 1963
Birthday: October 27
Death: February 11
I didn’t want my picture taken because I was going to cry. I didn’t know why I was going to cry, but I knew that if anybody spoke to me or looked at me too closely the tears would fly out of my eyes and the sobs would fly out of my throat and I’d cry for a week. I could feel the tears brimming and sloshing in me like water in a glass that is unsteady and too full.
source: Sylvia Plath (2016). “The Bell Jar”, p.53, Hamilton Books
topic: Depression, Taken, Eye, Bell Jar, Picture Taken