dig

Heavenly Hurt, it gives us –

We can find no scar,

But internal difference –

Where the Meanings, are –

Emily Dickinson

Wild nights – Wild nights!

Were I with thee

Wild nights should be

Our luxury!

Futile – the winds –

To a Heart in port –

Done with the Compass –

Done with the Chart!

Rowing in Eden –

Ah – the Sea!

Might I but moor – tonight –

In thee!

Emily Dickinson

We must try to see one another in this way.
As suffering, limited beings—
Perennially outmatched by circumstance, inadequately endowed with compensatory graces.

[…]

Our grief must be defeated; it must not become our master, and make us ineffective, and put us even deeper into the ditch.

[…]

We had forgotten so much, of all else we had been and known.

George Saunders, Lincoln in the Bardo