"I woke up in the night and said, 'But I am the most passionate of women. Take away my affections and I should be like sea weed out of water; like the shell of a crab, like a husk. All my entrails, light, marrow, juice, pulp would be gone. I should be blown into the first puddle and drown. Take away my love for my friends and my burning and pressing sense of the importance and lovability and curiosity of human life and I should be nothing but a membrane, a fibre, uncoloured, lifeless to be thrown away like any other excreta.'" -- Woolf, in a letter to Ethel Smyth, Aug. 19, 1930.
(I feel like this is Woolf's version of 1 Corinthians 13. If I have not love...)
Despite the busyness of my small life, I am quite happy.