How vast was a human being's capacity for suffering. The only thing you could do was stand in awe of it. It wasn't a question of survival at all. It was the fullness of it, how much could you hold, how much could you care.
Depression, suffering and anger are all part of being human.
Who can judge another man's suffering?
If sinners where so unhappy, why would they prefer their suffering? But now I knew why. Without my wounds, who was I?
