” I had the same dream each night – that I had a child,
and even in the dream I saw that the child was my life;
and it was an idiot, and I ran away.
Until I thought, if I could kiss it…
perhaps I could rest.
And I bent to its broken face, and it was horrible…
but I kissed it.
I think one must finally take one’s life in one’s arms.”
– Arthur Miller, After the Fall