We think we’re writing something to amuse, but we’re actually saying something we desperately need to share. The real mystery is this strange need. Why can’t we just hide it and shut up? Why do we have to blab? Why do human beings need to confess? Maybe, if you don’t have that secret confession, you don’t have a poem – don’t even have a story. Don’t have a writer. – Ted Hughes (Jij zegt het, Connie Palmen)