Meanwhile in my head, I'm undergoing open-heart surgery. - Anne Sexton.
223"This may sound vague and dismal but it is all I can think of at the moment; I am very happy and not very happy. People still do not understand me: I am most definitely not the mouth for their ears. For the time being, I am making up phrases. My biggest proof of devotion towards words is that I let them guide me. They lead and I follow. I put all my trust in them; especially in metaphors - but that you already know. This is a horrid, dull, scrappy scratchy letter but all letters of real affection are dull. Please, write your novel and then you will enter into the unreal world where Virginia lives - and, poor woman, can’t now live anywhere else. […]" - Virginia Woolf, from a letter to Vita Sackville-West dated 8th September 1928