If I don't write to empty my mind, I go mad.
(January 22, 1788 - April 19, 1824)
Anything, anything would be better than this agony of mind, this creeping pain that gnaws and fumbles and caresses one and never hurts quite enough
(June 21, 1905 - April 15, 1980)
Five exclamation marks, the sure sign of an insane mind.
(April 28, 1948 - )
My mind is troubled, like a fountain stirred;And I myself see not the bottom of it.
(April 26, 1564 - April 23, 1616)
A woman's mind is as complex as the contents of her handbag; even when you get to the bottom of it, there is ALWAYS something at the bottom to surprise you!
When you are on stage, you don't see faces. The lights are in your eyes and you see just this black void out in front of you. And yet you know there is life out there, and you have to get your message across.
(August 16, 1945 - )
In everyone there sleeps / A sense of life lived according to love. / To some it means the difference they could make / By loving others, but across most it sweeps / As all they might have done had they been loved. / That nothing cures.
(August 09, 1922 - December 02, 1985)
I wonder if any of them can tell from just looking at me that all I am is the sum total of my pain, a raw woundedness so extreme that it might be terminal. It might be terminal velocity, the speed of the sound of a girl falling down to a place from where she can't be retrieved. What if I am stuck down here for good?