I can't explain it. It's what turns you to powder, being ground between what you can't do and what you must do. You just turn to dust. - James Salter

The dreams are the skeleton of all reality.

She formed her life day by day, taking as its materials the emptiness and panic as well as the rushes, like fever, of contentment. I am beyond fear of solitude, she thought, I am past it. The idea thrilled her. I am beyond it and I will not sink. This submission, this triumph made her stronger. It was as if finally, after having passed through inferior stages, her life had found a form worthy of it.

For those we are born to speak to we need prepare nothing, the lines are ready, everything is there.