“Doctor Nolan led me through a door into a fresh, blue-skied air.
All the heat and fear purged itself. I felt surprisingly at peace. The bell jar hung, suspended, a few feet above my head. I was open to the circulating air.
. . .
How did I know that someday—at college, in Europe, somewhere, anywhere—the bell jar, with its stifling distortions, wouldn’t descend again?”
—from The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath
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