"With her questions, she was striving to understand, as she had striven all her life, and she was tired to death of this search for meaning. She would never know why some people committed countless little cruelties - or bigger ones - and the struggle to understand had only exhausted her and left her empty, cold, and gray inside."
From the novel Intensity by Dean Koontz
I can identify with that passage from the book. That is exactly how I have been feeling and may be the root of my recent struggle with depression.
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