Geez, if I could get through to you, kiddo, that depression is not sobbing and crying and giving vent, it is plain and simple reduction of feeling. Reduction, see? Of all feeling. People who keep stiff upper lips find that it's damn hard to smile.

The small seed of despair cracks open and sends experimental tendrils upward to the fragile skin of calm holding him together.

The 'creator' and the 'editor' - two halves of the writer whole - should sleep in separate rooms.

Life is not a series of pathetic, meaningles actions. Some of them are so far from pathetic, so far from meaningless as to be beyond reason, maybe beyond forgiveness.

To have a reason to get up in the morning, it is necessary to have some kind of guiding principle. A belief of some kind

Depression is not sobbing and crying and giving vent, it is plain and simple reduction of feeling.

I think living the blessed life is the luck of the draw.