I should like it to resemble some deep old desk, or capacious hold-all, in which one flings a mass of odds and ends without looking them through. (Virginia Woolf) We become ourselves through others, and the self is a porous thing, not a sealed container (Siri Hustvedt) En vez de mirarme en mi espejo quiero que mi espejo se mire en mí (Alejandra Pizarnik)
Mother wrote today with a good letter of maxims; sceptical as always at first, I read what struck home: “If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter… for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself… Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here.” Those words spoke to my heart with peace, as if in comment, kindly on my life, my days.
The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath. Anchor, 2000.