Paul Boccaccio

I suffered from several indefinable illnesses and could never really decide whether I wanted to live at all. Deep down in my consciousness, I can recall my actual condition, the stench of my body’s secretions, the damp chafing clothes, the soft glow of the nightlight, the door into the next room just ajar, the nursemaid’s deep breathing, pattering steps, whispering voices, reflections of the sun in the carafe of water. I can recall it all, but I do not remember any fear. That came later.

—Ingmar Bergman describes his childhood in The Magic Lantern