Quote of the day: Before you diagnose yourself with depression

Today’s quote is from William Gibson one of our favorite fiction writer.

Click on the image below for a larger version (original drawing)

image Depression USA

Before you diagnose yourself with depression or low self-esteem, first make sure that you are not, in fact, simply surrounded by assholes.

Related Posts:


  1. Quote of the day: Quotes with horses
  2. We were surprise how many quotes or proverbs with horses exist. Below our quick list of the most interesting ones: “I can make a General in five minutes but a good horse is hard to replace.” Abraham Lincoln – 16th US President (1861-65) “Speak the truth but ride a fast horse.” West Texas saying “The [...]


  3. Quote of the day: The last Poem
  4. link to article
    This quote is from James Clavell’s well known novel Shogun:

    The blue sky above the earth
    White clouds rise towards heaven
    Life is only a butterfly’s dream
    Death the way to eternal life

    Charles Edmund Dumaresq Clavell, 1924 – 1994, Shogun

    continue reading…


  5. Quote of the day: The Myth of Sisyphus
  6. link to article
    I see many people die because they judge that life is not worth living. I see others paradoxically getting killed for the ideas or illusions that give them a reason for living (what is called a reason for living is also an excellent reason for dying). I therefore conclude that the meaning of life is the most urgent of questions.

    Albert Camus, 1913 – 1960, The Myth of Sisyphus

    continue reading…


  7. Quote of the day: Funeral Blues
  8. link to article
    One of W.H. Auden best known poems “Funeral Blues” in its second (shorter) and changed version. We are still searching for the original version with five stanzas which Auden wrote together with Christopher Isherwood in 1936.

    Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
    Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
    Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
    Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

    Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
    Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
    Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
    Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

    He was my North, my South, my East and West,
    My working week and my Sunday rest,
    My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
    I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

    The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
    Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
    Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
    For nothing now can ever come to any good.

    Wystan Hugh Auden, 1907 – 1973, Funeral Blues

    continue reading…

Comments Off

Comments are closed.