As soon as whatever provisional well of confidence dries up, I will feel like a frightened motherless child. And I will—what? Lessee, I'll beg friends to assure me I'm fascinating, that my soul is complex so I can once more conduce to irony. An abyss opens up.
Maryse Holder, Give Sorrow Words: Maryse Holder's Letters From Mexico
assurance, confidence, despair, irony, loneliness, self-esteem