"I was vulnerable every day. Every night that I stepped on stage I was laying myself open."

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Then away out in the woods I heard that kind of a sound that a ghost makes when it wants to tell about something that's on its mind and can't make itself understood, and so can't rest easy in its grave, and has to go about that way every night grieving. As you value your life or your reason keep away from the moor.

— Arthur Conan Doyle