It is tragic how her generous spirit of the heart flowed to sadness.
Justly Selfish
I had a deeply-rooted fear of concealed trouble that could inflict seasons of gloom and silence, depression welcomed by growing happiness. We must be for ourselves in the long run - justly selfish.
Flooding in the Unhappy
In vapid listlessness eyes closed, but not rested. It was a state of dilapidation - at least, of detached interest within me. I had been flooding in the unhappy.
Phantom Grief
Dancing slowly to the ruined music, phantom grief and long drawn gloom.