Journal of a Solitude

by May Sarton

got up finally and went about the daily chores, waiting for the sense of doom to lift—and what did it was watering the house plants.

After I had looked for a while at that daffodil before I got up, I asked myself the question, “What do you want of your life?” and I realized with a start of recognition and terror, “Exactly what I have—but to be commensurate, to handle it all better.”