People don't want other people to be people.

Men are not against you; they are merely for themselves.

I hated labels anyway. People didn't fit in slots--prostitute, housewife, saint--like sorting the mail. We were so mutable, fluid with fear and desire, ideals and angles, changeable as water.

People are too complicated to have simple labels.

But I was awake, sitting by the window looking down at the trailer and Mr. Zoltan's truck. I could not sleep. That is how it is with folks my age. We take naps during the day, and then we cannot sleep at night. I think that it is because God is getting us ready for the grave. Is that right? Did He ever tell you? ("The Little Stranger")

Whatever we may say, all of us suffer from disturbed sleep at times.
Some in truth hardly sleep, though some who sleep copiously swear that they do not.
Some are disquieted by incessant dreams, and a fortunate few are visited often by dreams of delightful character.
Some will say that they were at one time troubled in sleeping but have 'recovered' from it, as though awareness were a disease, as perhaps it is.