A Quote by Sylvia Plath

I have taken a pill to kill The thin Papery feeling. — © Sylvia Plath
I have taken a pill to kill The thin Papery feeling.
White pill, blue pill, yellow pill, purple pill; its like swallowing a rainbow every bedtime.
I don't know anything offhand that mystifies Americans more than the cotton they put in pill bottles. Why do they do it? Are you supposed to put the cotton back in once you've taken a pill out?
There's no magic bullet; there's no pill that you take that makes everything great and makes you happy all the time. I'm letting go of those expectations, and that's opening me up to moments of transcendent bliss. But I still feel the stress over 'Am I thin enough? Am I too thin? Is my body the right shape?'
A pill to make you numb A pill to make you dumb A pill to make you anybody else But all the drugs in this world Won't save her from herself.
I want to show you something,” I say. What?” He dabs at his lips with the napkin, and for a moment I’m wishing so hard that I am that napkin that I can almost feel myself changing, becoming thin and papery and white. “Cal?” I sit back and feel myself blushing, feel it from the tips of my toes all the way to the heat at the backs of my ears.
Suppose you read about a pill that you could take once a day to reduce anxiety and increase your contentment. Would you take it? Suppose further that the pill has a great variety of side effects, all of them good: increased self-esteem, empathy, and trust; it even improves memory. Suppose, finally, that the pill is all natural and costs nothing. Now would you take it? The pill exists. It is meditation.
I was an onion, layers and layers and layers under a thin, papery skin. If anyone had been able to cut me open, my bitter, irritating juices would have stung their eyes, and they would have cried. Although I couldn't cry myself, much at the time. But no one would cut me open.
I hate taking pills. Like, I probably haven't taken a pill in over 10 years.
Several times in my life I've gone through long periods without sex or any other kind of physical contact. The hunger it produces is deep and low; it's possible to lose track of it, to forget or fail to perceive how it's emptied everything out of you and made the world papery and thin. Touch starved, you brush against existence like a stick against dry leaves. You become insubstantial yourself, a hungry ghost.
The vitamin has been reified. A chemical intangible originally defined as a unit of nutritive value, it was long ago reified into a pill. Now it is a pill; no one except a few precise scientists define it as anything else. Once the vitamin became a pill, it became real according to the precepts of American Cartesianism: I swallow it, therefore it is.
Privatization is a bitter pill but it is a pill that will cure.
I had to persuade a dog to swallow a pill. I twittered for advice and I got suggestion after suggestion. Most of them didn't work. 'Put the pill in the sausage.' No - that doesn't work. 'Cheese.' No. Then someone said: 'You wrap it in butter and it will slide down.' I tried it and it worked! And I'd learnt how to give a pill to a dog through the magic of Twitter.
In American culture we are supposed to take a pill when we're depressed or in grief as opposed to actually feeling.
Affliction is a pill, which, being wrapt up in patience and quiet submission, may be easily swallowed; but discontent chews the pill, and so embitters the soul.
I think with beauty there is so much to be done. A pill that will give you everlasting youth. To choose the exact age you want to stay at from a hundred pill bottles? That would be fun.
Give someone who has faith in you a placebo and call it a hair growing pill, anti-nausea pill or whatever, and you will be amazed at how many respond to your therapy.
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