Every human walks around with a certain kind of sadness. They may not wear it on their sleeves, but it’s there if you look deep.
One should either be sad or joyful. Contentment is a warm sty for eaters and sleepers.
Usually when people are sad, they don’t do anything. They just cry over their condition. But when they get angry, they bring about a change.
Everything’s complicated, even those things that seem flat in their bleakness or sadness.
Your joys and sorrows. You can never tell them. You cheapen the inside of yourself if you do tell them.