"Light illuminates by shedding darkness; can light dispel a dark it never meets? Were darkness shed by light it never meets, a single lamp could lift the darkness of a galaxy." — Nāgārjuna, Mūlamadhyamakakārikā
Last night I wept. I wept because the process by which I have become woman was painful. I wept because I was no longer a child with a child's blind faith. I wept because my eyes were opened to reality....I wept because I could not believe anymore and I love to believe. I can still love passionately without believing. That means I love humanly. I wept because I have lost my pain and I am not yet accustomed to its absence.
| Anaïs Nin, Henry and June: From "A Journal of Love": The Unexpurgated Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1931-1932
You can fall silent. You can close yourself in, shut yourself off. Then you don't have to play roles, show any faces, or make false gestures. Or so you thought. But reality is bloody-minded. Your hiding place isn't watertight. Life seeps in everything. You're forced to react. I understand your keeping silent, your immobility. That you've placed this lack of will into a fantastic system. I understand. I admire you. You should go on with this until it's played out, until it's no longer interesting. Then you can leave it, just as you've left your other parts one by one.
| Ingmar Bergman
Melancholia ends up in asymbolia, in loss of meaning: if I am no longer capable of translating or metaphorizing, I become silent and I die.
| Julia Kristeva Black Sun: Melancholia and Depression