The griffin knew that the mouse was blind, and thus had no idea that he was having tea with an enormous monster that, despite the foreparts of a dodo, nevertheless posessed a carnivorous feline stomach. But it’s lonely being a monster, particularly when your front half is extinct, and so he pretended to be a much smaller creature, and drank tea very cautiously out of the mouse-sized teacups, and kept his voice down to a whisper whenever he visited the mouse.
The mouse was, indeed, blind (being descended from one of a moderately famous trio) but was also nobody’s fool, and there was absolutely nothing wrong with his hearing. The griffin’s breathing couldn’t come from anything smaller than a bull elk. He occasionally wondered if he should offer his guest a bigger teacup (or possibly a barrel) but figured that if the griffin wasn’t going to say anything about it, neither was he. - Ursula Vernon
And that’s the most frustrating thing about depression. It isn’t always something you can fight back against with hope. It isn’t even something — it’s nothing. And you can’t combat nothing. You can’t fill it up. You can’t cover it. It’s just there, pulling the meaning out of everything. That being the case, all the hopeful, proactive solutions start to sound completely insane in contrast to the scope of the problem.
It would be like having a bunch of dead fish, but no one around you will acknowledge that the fish are dead. Instead, they offer to help you look for the fish or try to help you figure out why they disappeared. (x)
You know when you read something that’s so accurate that you don’t know how to words? Yeah.
"Alfons Maria Mucha (Ivančice, 24 July 1860 – Prague, 14 July 1939), often known in English and French as Alphonse Mucha, was a Czech Art Nouveau painter and decorative artist, known best for his distinct style. He produced many paintings, illustrations, advertisements, postcards, and designs."