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It was like the first time I saw a cadaver. For weeks afterward, the cadaver’s head- or what there was left of it- floated up behind my eggs and bacon at breakfast and behind the face of Buddy Willard, who was responsible for my seeing it in the first place, and pretty soon I felt as though I were carrying that cadaver’s head around with me on a string, like some black, noseless balloon stinking of vinegar.
Tags » Sylvia Plath
“If we encounter a man of rare intellect, we should ask him what books he reads.”-Ralph Waldo Emerson
A few months ago, I was invited to write about the top ten books that have influenced my life.1,157 more words