mount [Theme] Page 4
It is better when grief is realized gradually.
Joy and sorrow go hand in hand in life.
If you are unable to recognize this, if you are unaware of the darkness in the heart of your adversary, you will not be able to understand the grief and pain of others.
Quote Explanation: Yugi Mutou talks about his partner's weakness, pride and darkness in his heart.
He swayed, already very drunk, but I will not interfere with a comrade in misfortune to fall into oblivion. In some cases, this desire is most justified. I always believed that one must have a hard heart in order to soberly and clearly look at things.
Only for me you want death!
To turn my hope into a hospital bed again?
Tears in joy with us and in sorrow. They are alive - in them the sublime soul huddles.
Talking about grief or guilt can ease the pain a little. And then there will be more room for joy in the heart.
"You know, Hibiki... I don't think you should take her place." None of us think so. Therefore, I ask you - do not hold a grudge against Tsubasa. And please, never leave her alone.
“I’ll be happy to go there myself when I’ve dealt with them all!”
He smelled of whiskey. Whiskey and grief, and this is the most dangerous mixture.
Years passed, summer and winter changed each other. There were hot days and warm days, and days when the salty wind blew from the sea, flower fields in the spring, and abundant harvests, and golden autumn days, roads were built throughout the kingdom, and bridges connected the banks of the rivers. But the king, as far as his subjects could see, showed no joy. "Now it's always winter," he said to Septon Barth one evening, while drunk. Since Aemon's death, he always drank a cup or three of honey-sweetened wine at night to sleep.
The strange change that began shortly after the armistice continues. The war, which almost all the soldiers in 1918 hated, for those who survived safely, gradually turned into the greatest event in life. They returned to everyday existence, which seemed to them, when they were still lying in the trenches and cursing the war, some kind of paradise. Now everyday life has come again with their worries and troubles, and the war is remembered as something vague, distant, obsolete, and therefore, against their will, it looks completely different, it is tinted and replaced. The massacre was presented as an adventure from which it was possible to emerge unscathed. Calamities are forgotten, grief is enlightened, and the death that spared you has become what it almost always happens in life - something abstract, already unreal. It is a reality only when it hits someone very close by or reaches out to us.
Blessed is the one who has a soul, blessed is the one who does not have it, but woe (problems and sorrows) to those who have it in the bud.
it's a sin to get lost.
