Daniel Goleman Quote
Bereavement is useful; full-blown depression is not. William Styron renders an eloquent description of the many dreadful manifestations of the disease, among them self-hatred, a sense of worthlessness, a dank joylessness with gloom crowding in on me, a sense of dread and alienation and, above all, a stifling anxiety.14 Then there are the intellectual marks: confusion, failure of mental focus and lapse of memories, and, at a later stage, his mind dominated by anarchic distortions, and a sense that my thought processes were engulfed by a toxic and unnameable tide that obliterated any enjoyable response to the living world. There are the physical effects: sleeplessness, feeling as listless as a zombie, a kind of numbness, an enervation, but more particularly an odd fragility, along with a fidgety restlessness. Then there is the loss of pleasure: Food, like everything else within the scope of sensation, was utterly without savor. Finally, there was the vanishing of hope as the gray drizzle of horror took on a despair so palpable it was like physical pain, a pain so unendurable that suicide seemed a solution. In such major depression, life is paralyzed; no new beginnings emerge. The very symptoms of depression bespeak a life on hold. For
Bereavement is useful; full-blown depression is not. William Styron renders an eloquent description of the many dreadful manifestations of the disease, among them self-hatred, a sense of worthlessness, a dank joylessness with gloom crowding in on me, a sense of dread and alienation and, above all, a stifling anxiety.14 Then there are the intellectual marks: confusion, failure of mental focus and lapse of memories, and, at a later stage, his mind dominated by anarchic distortions, and a sense that my thought processes were engulfed by a toxic and unnameable tide that obliterated any enjoyable response to the living world. There are the physical effects: sleeplessness, feeling as listless as a zombie, a kind of numbness, an enervation, but more particularly an odd fragility, along with a fidgety restlessness. Then there is the loss of pleasure: Food, like everything else within the scope of sensation, was utterly without savor. Finally, there was the vanishing of hope as the gray drizzle of horror took on a despair so palpable it was like physical pain, a pain so unendurable that suicide seemed a solution. In such major depression, life is paralyzed; no new beginnings emerge. The very symptoms of depression bespeak a life on hold. For
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الموسيقى بالنسبة لفرانز هي الفن الأكثر قرباً من الجمال الديونيسي الذي يقدّس النشوة. يمكن لرواية أو للوحة أن تدوّخنا ولكن بصعوبة. أما مع السمفونية التاسعة لبيتهوڤن، أو مع السوناتة المؤلفة من آلتيْ بيان...