I wish I hadn’t become so conscious of everything. Once I wouldn’t have noticed: now every conversation, every encounter with a person seems like crossing a mined field; and why can’t I accept that one’s closest friends at moments stick a knife in, deep, between the ribs?
Doris Lessing, from “The Golden Notebook,” originally publ. c. 1962 (via violentwavesofemotion)
Always The Alpha 