How true it is that words are but the vague shadows of the volumes we mean. Little audible links, they are, chaining together great inaudible feeling… - Theodore Dreiser

How true it is that words are but the vague shadows of the volumes we mean.

"So they decided against me. Now I will have to go through that door after all, — like all those others. They'll draw the curtains for me, too. Into that other room — then back across the passage — saying good-bye as I go, like those others. I will not be here any more." He seemed to be going over each step in his mind — each step with which he was so familiar, only now, for the first time, he was living it for himself.

How could they judge him, these people, all or any one of them, even his own mother, when they did not know what his own mental, physical and spiritual suffering had been? And

The growth of a passion is a very peculiar thing. In highly
organized intellectual and artistic types it is so often apt to
begin with keen appreciation of certain qualities, modified by
many, many mental reservations. The egoist, the intellectual,
gives but little of himself and asks much. Nevertheless, the
lover of life, male or female, finding himself or herself in
sympathetic accord with such a nature, is apt to gain much.