I wander around the CrazyStable, kicking aside un-put-away Christmas boxes, loathing the proliferative piles of tax documents, gazing out at the mud, and grappling with the impossible realization that age 50 is just around the proverbial corner...and these two just won't shut up:
'What do you fear, lady?' he asked.
'A cage,' she said. 'To stay behind bars, until use and old age accept them, and all chance of doing great deeds is gone beyond recall or desire.'
And then there's this, the holy writ of Roz Chast, which has hung on my office door for some 20 years (and not just mine, says Google; sorry it's not bigger or crisper repro):
Call it a mid-life crisis, and I will cut you to pieces with the Sword that Once Was Broken, and then toss them (the pieces) out of the window.