In his new book, Against Happiness, In Praise of Meloncholy, Eric G. Wilson makes a case for the purpose of suffering.
“The greatest tragedy is to live without tragedy,” he writes. “To hug happiness is to hate life. To love peace is to loathe the self. The blues are clues to the sublime. The embrace of gloom stokes the heart.”
Is there something to be said for these dark nights of the soul? And is this different than suffering with depression?
jueves, 20 de marzo de 2008
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