...she always had the feeling that it was very, very dangerous to live even one day.
For we think back through our mothers if we are women.
Life would split apart without letters.
As an experience, madness is terrific ... and in its lava I still find most of the things I write about.
Are we so made that we have to take death in small doses daily or we could not go on with the business of living?
But I think I’m coloured by my own wishes, & experimental mood.