One should always consider when taking action, not only the joy and pleasure that follows, but also the anguish and length of discomfort; especially when the anguish affects another party.
No death, no doom, no anguish can arouse the surpassing despair which flows from a loss of identity. - Through the Gates of the Silver Key
What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery? (Just to give you an idea, Proust's reply was 'To be separated from Mama.') I think that the lowest depth of misery ought to be distinguished from the highest pitch of anguish. In the lower depths come enforced idleness, sexual boredom, and/or impotence. At the highest pitch, the death of a friend or even the fear of the death of a child.
But what we call our despair is often only the painful eagerness of unfed hope.
This world’s anguish is no different from the love we insist on holding back.
But whichever form it took it brought with it, in those moments of bitter anguish, such a desperate surge of hope that it was almost untouchable, and flitted away like a golden butterfly into the bright blue sky - beautiful, unreachable and completely transistent.
I’d rather be hated by standing for what’s right than enduring emotional anguish for remaining silent; by remaining silent there is no confrontation nor truth and peace prevails.
When one completes complex or difficult tasks and assignments without anguish or physical trauma, they’ve evolved to the top floor and must look down to view people.