Oh, where is it, where did my past go, when I was young, happy and intelligent, when my dreams and thoughts had some grace, and the present and future were lit up with hope? Why is it, that when we've just started to live, we grow dull, gray, uninteresting, lazy, useless, with flattened-out souls?
Sarah Ruhl, Chekhov's Three Sisters & Woolf's Orlando
anton-chekhov, drama, theatre, three-sisters