My joy is as painful as my pain.

Some sensations are sleeps that take up all the extent of the mind like a fog, don't let us think, don't let us act, don't let us be clearly.

Between me and life is a faint glass. No matter how sharply I see and understand life, I cannot touch it.

I never go to where's a risk. I'm frightened of dangers down to boredom.

The lyf so short, the craft so longe to lerne. Th' assay so hard, so sharp the conquerynge, The dredful joye, alwey that slit so yerne; Al this mene I be love.

My suffering had left me sad and gloomy.

Now no joy but lacks salt, That is not dashed with pain And weariness and fault; I crave the stain Of tears, the aftermark Of almost too much love, The sweet o…