Will

“In every way that counted, I was dead. Inside somewhere maybe I was screaming and weeping and howling like an animal, but that was another person deep inside, another person who had no access to the lips and face and mouth and head, so on the surface I just shrugged and smile and kept moving. If I could have physically passed away, just let it all go, like that, without doing anything, stepped out of life as easily as walking through a door I would have done. But I was going to sleep at night and waking in the morning, disappointed to be there and resigned to existence.”
― Neil Gaiman, Fragile Things: Short Fictions and Wonders

“I am made and remade continually. Different people draw different words from me.”
― Virginia Woolf, The Waves

“Don't say mourning. It's too psychoanalytic. I'm not mourning. I'm suffering.”
― Roland Barthes, Mourning Diary: October 26, 1977–September 15, 1979

“There is no bleaker moment in life of the city than that one which crosses the boundary lines between those who have not slept all night and those who are going to work. It was for Sabina as if two races of men and women lived on earth, the night people and the day people, never meeting face to face except at this moment.”
― Anaïs Nin, A Spy in the House of Love