We enjoy warmth because we have been cold.
We appreciate light because we have been in darkness.
By the same token, we can experience joy because we have known
The silence that guards the tomb does not reveal God's secret in
the obscurity of the coffin, and the rustling of the branches
whose roots suck the body's elements do not tell the mysteries
of the grave, by the agonized sighs of my heart announce to the
living the drama which love, beauty, and death have performed.
There are as many nights as days, and the one is just as long as
the other in the year's course.
Even a happy life cannot be without a measure of darkness, and
the word 'happy' would lose its meaning if it were not balanced
Love is never lost. If not reciprocated,
it will flow back and soften and purify the heart.
Depression, when it’s clinical, is not a metaphor. It runs in
families, and it’s known to respond to medication and to
However truly you believe there’s a sickness to existence that
can never be cured, if you’re depressed you will sooner or later
surrender and say: I just don’t want to feel bad anymore.
The shift from depressive realism to tragic realism, from being
immobilized by darkness to being sustained by it, thus strangely
seems to require believing in the possibility of a cure…