I admit I often tear up letters myself: one can’t, even at my age, believe that other people want affection or admiration; yea one knows that there’s nothing in the whole world so important. Why is it? Why are we all so tongue tied and spellbound? Why do we live three streets off and yet never meet? I think human beings are fundamentally crushed by a sense of their insignificance.
—Virgina Woolf, carta para Philip Morrell, 3 de Fevereiro de 1938