But I stopped going out; I stopped wanting to go out. This happens very easily. It’s as if you had always done that — lived in a few rooms and gone from one to the other. The light is a different colour every hour and the shadows fall differently and make different patterns. You feel peaceful, but when you try to think it’s as if you’re face to face with a high, dark wall. Really all you want is night, and to lie in the dark and pull the sheet over your head and sleep, and before you know where you are it is night — that’s one good thing. You pull the sheet over your head and think, ‘He got sick of me,’ and ‘Never, not ever, never.’ And then you go to sleep. You sleep very quickly when you are like that and you don’t dream either.

— Jean Rhys, Voyage in the Dark (via nineteencigarettes)

(via thestolencaryatid)

March 6 2014