I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Atilla and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.
Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Quote 9 of 52
This week's quote is a classic. It's Emerson, and it reminds me that I have some Emerson and some Thoreau sitting next to my bed, given to me by a friend years ago I would have least expected to give me such a book. Well, there I go....adding to my reading list. I'm looking at Siddhartha right now.......Sigh.
What lies between us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.