“You and I know each other in our bones,”— Kurt Vonnegut, from a letter to Nanny Vonnegut wr. c. January 1973
“I am getting so strong again that I hardly know myself. It is as if I had passed through some long nightmare, and had just awakened to see the beautiful sunshine and feel the fresh air of the morning around me.”— Bram Stoker, from The Collected Prose Works; “Dracula,” wr. c. 1897
“I am not at home in myself. I am my own stranger.”— Anne Sexton, from a letter to Anne Clarke written c. March 1964
“Love. Love everything from the grass to the first person who walks by in the street. Love it all. That’s the only thing that can make life not just bearable, but beautiful.”— Margarita Karapanou, tr. by Karen Emmerich, from “Rien ne va Plus,”
