Just finished reading Long Day's Journey Into Night, "a sadly inappropriate gift" from a lovely couple. It's not really "a sadly inappropriate gift" for me at all. For someone like me who had never read a play before, this play by Nobel laureate Eugene O'Neill is definitely a good starting point. I read most part of the book during my commute to work. When I reached my stop, I would close the book, walk out off the MRT train, and feel completely detached from reality. For a reader can have such an effect by reading the book, perhaps it won't be too hard to imagine the impact of actually living in the circumstance -- tears and blood, indeed.

Quoting my favorite lines:

EDMUND
...
The fog was where I wanted to be. Halfway down the path you can't see this house. You'd never know it was here. Or any of the other places down the avenue. I couldn't see but a few feet ahead. I didn't meet a soul. Everything looked and sounded unreal. Nothing was what it is. That's what I wanted -- to be alone with myself. Out beyond the harbor, where the road runs along the beach, I even lost the feeling of being on land. The fog and the sea seemed part of each other. I was like walking on the bottom of the sea. As if I had drowned long ago. As if I was a ghost belonging to the fog, and the fog was the ghost of the sea. It felt damned peaceful to be nothing more than a ghost within a ghost.
...

• See also the adapted film.