That terrible mood of depression of whether it's any good or not is what is known as The Artist's Reward.
(Ernest Hemingway (1899-1961), U.S. author. letter, Sept. 13, 1929, to F. Scott Fitzgerald. Selected Letters, ed. Carlos Baker (1981).
Biographer and critic Leon Edel observed, in a 1988 interview, "The greatest enemy of writers is depression, which they can't avoid.")
Everything I think I own is simply borrowed: sustained to complete life's journey. Learn to take a little - give a little. Never expecting too much in return. Go with the current of the river: sometimes rough, other times clam. It's not always a smooth ride. Do things which create laughter and smiles. Once you know these rules there's NO anxieties or depression. ALL is well in my world.
There are times when the pain becomes a torture for a man. But the phoenix is always supposed to rise from the ashes. So let us not be bogged down by depression but we must confront the adversities slowly but firmly.
During depression the world disappears. Language itself. One has nothing to say. Nothing. No small talk, no anecdotes. Nothing can be risked on the board of talk. Because the inner voice is so urgent in its own discourse: How shall I live? How shall I manage the future? Why should I go on?
(Kate Millett (b. 1934), U.S. feminist theorist, literary critic, essayist, autobiographer, sculptor. The Loony-Bin Trip, pt. 3, Simon and Schuster (1990).)
In the larger view the major forces of the depression now lie outside of the United States, and our recuperation has been retarded by the unwarranted degree of fear and apprehension created by these outside forces.
(Herbert Hoover (1874-1964), U.S. president. Ed. Arnold S. Rice, Herbert Hoover, 1874-1964: ChronologyDocumentsBibliographical Aids, p. 61, Dobbs Ferry (1971).)
Geez, if I could get through to you, kiddo, that depression is not sobbing and crying and giving vent, it is plain and simple reduction of feeling. Reduction, see? Of all feeling. People who keep stiff upper lips find that it's damn hard to smile.
(Judith Guest (b. 1936), U.S. author. The psychiatrist Berger to Conrad Jarrett, in Ordinary People, ch. 27 (1976).)