As I Lay Dying

by William Faulkner

In a strange room you must empty yourself for sleep. And before you are emptied for sleep, what are you. And when you are emptied for sleep, you are not. And when you are filled with sleep, you never were. I dont know what I am. I dont know if I am or not.

I could just remember how my father used to say that the reason for living was to get ready to stay dead a long time.