Suppressed grief suffocates, it rages within the breast, and is forced to multiply its strength.

What is deservedly suffered must be borne with calmness, but when the pain is unmerited, the grief is resistless.

Suppressed grief suffocates, it rages within the breast, and is forced to multiply its strength. [Lat., Strangulat inclusus dolor, atque exaestuat intus, Cogitur et vires multiplicare suas.]

And my heart bled within me; for you can only be free when even the desire of seeking freedom becomes a harness to you, and when you cease to speak of freedom as a goal and a fullfilment. you should be free indeed when your days are not without care nor your nights without a word and a grief, but rather when these things girdle your life and yet you rise above them naked unbound.

Perhaps grief is like battle: After experiencing enough of it, your body’s instincts take over. When you see it closing in like a Martial death squad, you harden your insides. You prepare for the agony of a shredded heart. And when it hits, it hurts, but not as badly, because you have locked away your weakness, and all that’s left is anger and strength.

Those who seek to acquire steadiness of faith must first acquire the strength to bear grief and pain, insult and injury. The succession of joy and grief must help confirm the faith and make it immovable. That alone can evidence true devotion.