Beneath a mask of selfish tranquility nothing exists except bitterness and boredom. I am one of those whom suffering has made empty and frivolous: each night in my dreams I pull the scab off a wound; each day, vacuous and habit-ridden, I help it re-form.
Cyril ConnollyWhen even despair ceases to serve any creative purpose, then surely we are justified in suicide.
Cyril Connolly