Sometimes it hurts to live, but there is always something to live for. Could you try to remember that? - Karl Ove Knausgård

What was it that Rilke wrote? That music raised him out of himself, and never returned him to where it had found him, but to a deeper place, somewhere in the unfinished.

If you are afraid of the dark, you seek the light. But what do you do when even the light is filled with terrors?

I had gained an insight. At great expense, but it was real and important: I was not a writer. What writers had, I did not have. I fought against this insight, I told myself I might be able to have what writers had, it might be attainable provided I persisted for long enough, while knowing in fact this was only a consolation. - Karl Ove Knausgaard, after his year at the Bergen Writing Academy