Knowledge Is Marvelous, But Wisdom Is Even

I Think Wanting To Write Is A Fundamental Sign Of Disease And Discomfort. I Don't Think People Who Are Comfortable Want To Write.

It Took Me Far Too Long To Realize That Lost Years And Relationships Cannot Be Recovered. That Damage Done To Oneself And Others Cannot Always Be Put Right Again.

Manic-depression Distorts Moods And Thoughts, Incites Dreadful Behaviors, Destroys The Basis Of Rational Thought, And Too Often Erodes The Desire And Will To Live. It Is An Illness That Is Biological In Its Origins, Yet One That Feels Psychological In The Experience Of It, An Illness That Is Unique In Conferring Advantage And Pleasure, Yet One That Brings In Its Wake Almost Unendurable Suffering And, Not Infrequently, Suicide.

We All Move Uneasily Within Our Restraints.

I Am By Temperament An Optimist, And I Thought From The Beginning That There Was Much To Be Written About Suicide That Was Strangely Heartening.