i will cry over another’s death, but i will never shed a tear over my own.
The greatness of man is great in that he knows himself to be wretched. A tree does not know itself to be wretched.
Just a bump on the toboggan ride into the abyss.
“I need to emerge from tiny time-stopping moments; I need to exist inside dawn’s light. I need to give in to the presence of everything humble, boundlessly sincere and extraordinarily terrifying.”
Virginia Woolf, Passionate Apprentice: The Early Journals, 1897-1909
Talk, talk, talk: the utter and heartbreaking stupidity of words.
William Faulkner, Mosquitoes: A Novel