The inner life has its soft
and gentle beauty;
an abstract formlessness
as well as a subtle charm.
I often consider myself
as a figure in a foggy painting:
faltering lines,
insecure distances,
and a merging of greys and blacks.
An emotion or a mood,
a mere wisp of color, is shaded off
and made to spread until it becomes
one with all that surrounds it.
- Virginia Woolf -