But steering back to the first post; "Life is a comedy to those who think and a tragedy to those who feel." I could not disagree more with this statement, and the sentiment behind it. The wider and deeper I have read on the broad subject of life, the more despair I encounter; not my despair, but the writers. Before I started devouring books like Sylvia Plath on methamphetamine, I would say I was more apt to be amused by the personal foibles of people. Thinking and feeling prove difficult to disentwine, at least to me, and for myself, my sentiments grow toward magnanimity, not mirth.