What the caterpillar calls the end of the world the master calls a butterfly.
Alexander Graham Bell
When one door closes, another opens; but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door that we do not see the one which has opened for us.
If you’re going through hell, keep going.
Man is fond of counting his troubles, but he does not count his joys. If he counted them up as he ought to, he would see that every lot has enough happiness provided for it.
All the world is full of suffering. It is also full of overcoming.
C. S. Lewis
Pain insists upon being attended to. God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our consciences, but shouts in our pains. It is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world.
I am now the most miserable man living. If what I feel were equally distributed to the whole human family, there would not be one cheerful face on earth. To remain as I am is impossible. I must die or be better
Our generation has had no Great Depression, no Great War. Our war is spiritual. Our depression is our lives.
Fits of depression come over the most of us. Usually cheerful as we may be, we must at intervals be cast down. The strong are not always vigorous, the wise not always ready, the brave not always courageous, and the joyous not always happy.
Before any great achievement, some measure of depression is very usual.
My friend Anne once said that being around people when you are depressed is like being asked to heal your broken leg by running a marathon.
Adjusting for population growth, ten times as many people in the Western nations today suffer from “unipolar” depression, or unremitting bad feelings without a specific cause, than did half a century ago. Americans and Europeans have ever more of everything except happiness.
I was born into this world with a tortured sensitivity. For long I have puzzled over the causes of my psychological anguish.
Depression is a disorder of mood, so mysteriously painful and elusive in the way it becomes known to the self – to the mediating intellect – as to verge close to being beyond description. It thus remains nearly incomprehensible to those who have not experienced it in its extreme mode, although the gloom, ‘the blues’ which people go through occasionally and associate with the general hassle of everyday existence are of such prevalence that they do give many individuals a hint of the illness in its catastrophic form.