" My spring is broken, and a separate exertion is necessary for the lifting up of each — and then it falls down again. I never felt so before: there is no wonder that I should feel so now. Nevertheless, I don’t give up much to the pernicious languor — the tendency to lie down to sleep among the snows of a weary journey — I don’t give up much to it. Only I find it sometimes at the root of certain negligences — for instance, of this toward you. "

― Elizabeth Barrett Browning , Complete Works of Elizabeth Barrett Browning