"You have had many great sadnesses which have now passed by. And you say that their passing is also hard and upsetting for you. But I ask you to consider whether these great unhappinesses did not rather pass through you. Whether much within you has changed, whether somewhere, in some part of your being, you were transformed while you were unhappy? The only sorrows which are harmful and bad are those one takes among people in order to drown them out. Like diseases treated superficially and inexpertly, they only abate, and after a short pause break out again with more terrible force, and accumulate inside and are life, unlived, rejected, lost life - from which we can die. If it were possible for us to see further than our knowledge reaches, and a little beyond the outworks of our intuitions, perhaps then we should bear our sadnesses with greater assurances than our joys. For they are moments when something new enters into us, something unknown to us: our feelings, shy and inhibited, fall silent, everything in us withdraws and a stillness settles on us, and at the centre of it is the new presence that nobody yet knows, making no sound. I believe that almost all our sadnesses are periods of tautening that we experience as numbness because we can no longer hear the stirring of our feelings, which have become foreign to us. Because we are alone with the strange thing that has entered into us; because everything familiar and accustomed is taken away from us in that moment; because we are in the middle of a transition where we cannot stand still. And that is why sadness passes; what is new in us, the thing that has supervened, has entered into our heart, penetrated to its innermost chamber and not lingered even there - it is already in our blood. And we never quite know what it was. One might easily suppose that nothing had happened, but we have altered the way a house alters when a guest enters it" (Rainer Maria Rilke).