Piece by piece, I fed my wardrobe to the night wind, and flutteringly, like a loved oneโs ashes, the gray scraps were ferried off, to settle here, there, exactly where I would never know, in the dark heart of New York.
Sylvia PlathI am gone quite mad with the knowledge of accepting the overwhelming number of things I can never know, places I can never go, and people I can never be.
Sylvia Plath