❝ (How frail the human heart must be-
a throbbing pulse, a trembling thing-
a fragile, shining instrument
of crystal, which can either weep,
or sing.) ❞
- Sylvia Plath, from “I thought that I could not be hurt”
a throbbing pulse, a trembling thing-
a fragile, shining instrument
of crystal, which can either weep,
or sing.) ❞
- Sylvia Plath, from “I thought that I could not be hurt”