I didn't know why I was
going to cry, but I knew that if anybody spoke to me or
looked at me too closely the tears would fly out of my eyes
and the sobs would fly out of my throat and I'd cry for a
week. I could feel the tears brimming and sloshing in me like
water in a glass that is unsteady and too
full.
—
Sylvia Plath,
"The Bell jar"
