"Grief is like a long valley, a winding valley where any bend may reveal a totally new landscape...Sometimes the surprise is the opposite one; you are presented with exactly the same sort of country you thought you had left behind miles ago. That is when you wonder whether the valley isn't a circular trench. But it isn't. There are partial recurrences, but the sequence doesn't repeat....
...On the contrary, every horizon, every stile or clump of trees, summoned me into a past kind of happiness. But the invitation seemed to me horrible....I find that I don't want to go back again and be happy in that way. It frightens me to think that a mere going back should even be possible...
...I was wrong to say the stump was recovering from the pain of amputation. I was deceived because it has so many ways to hurt me that I discover them only one by one..."
A Greif Observed ::: C.S. Lewis
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