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The Bell Jar
It was a queer, sultry summer, the summer they electrocuted the Rosenbergs, and I didn’t know what I was doing in New York.
In the dim light of the streetlamp that filtered through the drawn blinds, I could see the pin curls on her head glittering like the row of little bayonets.
The eyes and the faces all turned themselves toward me, and guiding myself by them, as by a magical thread, I stepped into the room.
Title: The Bell Jar
Author: Sylvia Plath