Our bones ache only while the flesh is on them. - Djuna Barnes

Our bones only ache while the flesh is on them. Stretch it thin as the temple flesh of an ailing woman and still it serves to ache the bone and to move the bone about; and in like manner the night is a skin pulled over the head of day that the day may be in a torment. We will find no comfort until the night melts away; until the fury of the night rots out its fire.

A man is whole only when he takes into account his shadow as well as himself — and what is a man's shadow but his upright astonishment?

The night is a skin pulled over the head of day that the day may be in torment.