“When I read the biography of Oscar Wilde and researched the life of this quintessential hedonist, I was repeatedly surprised by the protracted passages of despair that came from the heart and the pen of a man so completely devoted to the pursuit of pleasure. See the scripture reference – Job 29:22 – engraved in Latin on his tombstone, which translates as, “After I had spoken, they spoke no more; my words fell gently on their ears.” ponder the epitaph that reads, “And alien tears will fill for him pity’s long broken urn, for his mourners will be outcast men, and outcasts always mourn.” These speak of the silence of pain. If it were pain alone that brought emptiness, I would at least half grant the atheist’s point. But some of the loneliest people I have met or read about are those who have had everything and experience little of what we consider pain; yet, they too have pain – pain resulting from having indulged and come away empty.
The greatest disappointments (and resulting pain) you can feel is when you have just experienced that which you thought would bring you the ultimate in pleasure – and it has let you down. Pleasure without boundaries produces a life without purpose. That is real pain. No death, no tragedy, no atrocity – nothing really matters. Life is sheer hollowness, with no purpose.”
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