" i love people. everybody. i love them. i think, as a stamp collector loves his collection. every story, every incident, every hit of conversation is raw material for me. my love's not impersonal yet not wholly subjective either. i would like to be everyone, a cripple, a dying man, a whore, and then come back to write about my thoughts, my emotions, as that person. but i am not omniscent. i have to live my life, and it is the only one i'll ever have. and you cannot regard your own life with objective curiosity all the time..."

( the unabridged journals of sylvia plath, pag. 09 .)