What is my life for and what am I going to do with it? I don’t know and I’m afraid. I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. I can never train myself in all the skills I want. And why do I want? I want to live and feel all the shades, tones, and variations of mental and physical experience possible in my life. And I am horribly limited. […] I have much to live for, yet unaccountably I am sick and sad.
Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
(via hecatese)
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