It is a time when one’s spirit is subdued and sad, one knows not why; when the past seems a storm-swept desolation, life a vanity and a burden, and the future but a way to death. It is a time when one is filled with vague longings; when one dreams of flight to peaceful islands in the remote solitudes of the sea, or folds his hands and says, What is the use of struggling, and toiling and worrying any more? let us give it all up.
Mark TwainYou can't reason with your heart; it has its own laws, and thumps about things which the intellect scorns.
Mark TwainWhen someone dies, it is like when your house burns down; it isn't for years that you realize the full extent of your loss.
Mark Twain