“And I am sick for want of sleep;So sick, that I can half-believeThe soundless river pouring from the caveIs neither strong nor deep;Only an image fancied in conceit.”
“I am half-sick of shadows,' said The Lady of Shalott.”
“I am tired and sick of war. Its glory is all moonshine. It is only those who have neither fired a shot nor heard the shrieks and groans of the wounded who cry aloud for blood, for vengeance, for desolation. War is hell.”
“I am too sick to be out of bed, too crazy to sleep, and am surrounded by horrors.”
“I inhabit the wax image of myself, a doll's body. Sickness begins here; I am a dartboard for witches.”
“Some people call me sick and twisted. I feel that I'm neither; I am instead a Romantic.”