precious laughing time is wasted, because I have to put up with Satan’s stupid minions who smile without attempting to anger somebody else – leave us alone already.
The point is not that this world is too sad to love or too glad not to love; the point is that when you do love a thing, its gladness is a reason for loving it, and its sadness a reason for loving it more.
When your sad–like really sad–you only want to be with other people who are sad.
the falling apart
is always so quick.
the putting back together
is always too long.
1I smiled bitterly, a defeated man pitifully begging a God in whom he had never trusted.
You are alone,
You speak back to silence.
People call it loneliness,
You call it solitude,
Meaning the same pain.
Never did anybody look so sad. Bitter and black, halfway down, in the darkness, in the shaft which ran from the sunlight to the depths, perhaps a tear formed; a tear fell; the waves swayed this way and that, received it, and were at rest. Never did anybody look so sad.
She was becoming sad. There is no joy involved in following others’ expectations of yourself.
It wasn’t the aloneness that Liz minded. It was the silence. It echoed.
Sympathy from strangers can be ruinous.