Love Has, At Its Best, Made The

Love, Like Life, Is Much Stranger And Far More Complicated Than One Is Brought Up To Believe.

In Depression, Your Capacity To Feel Just Flattens And Disappears And What You Feel Is Pain And A Kind Of Pain That You Can't Describe To Anybody. So It's An Isolating Pain, A Completely Isolating Pain.

Without Science, There Would Be No Such Hope.

I Remember Sitting In His Office A Hundred Times During Those Grim Months And Each Time Thinking, What On Earth Can He Say That Will Make Me Feel Better Or Keep Me Alive? Well, There Never Was Anything He Could Say, That's The Funny Thing. It Was All The Stupid, Desperately Optimistic, Condescending Things He Didn't Say That Kept Me Alive; All The Compassion And Wamrth I Felt From Him That Could Not Have Been Said; All The Intelligence, Competence, And Time He Put Into It; And His Granite Belief That Mine Was A Life Worth Living.

People Talk About Grief As If It's Kind Of An Unremittingly Awful Thing, And It Is. It Is Painful, But It's A Very, Very Interesting Sort Of Thing To Go Through And It Really Helps You Out.