"The pleasure rising on the chest hurts so much that it is preferable to feel the accustomed pain than the unusual pleasure. The true joy has no possible explanation, does not have the ability to be understood – and looks like the beginning of a unrecoverable doom. This merge is unbearably good - as if death was our greatest good and the end, but it isn't the death, it is the immeasurable life that comes to resemble the grandeur of death. Should be left to flood by joy slowly – because this is the life born. And those who do not have strength, that cover every nerve with a protective film, with a film of death in order to be able to tolerate life. This film can consist of any formal protective act, in any silence or in multiple words without meaning. Because the pleasure is not to play with. It is we."
("The Birth of Pleasure ", Clarice Lispector
Clarice Lispector was a writer that came from Ukraine, but lived most part of her life in Brazil).