Let Sorrow Stay Hidden

Never tell your personal sorrows to someone who has no real reason to be touched by your grief. You know what happens when you do? It creates a kind of obligation in them—they feel compelled to say something consoling. (For politeness' sake, they must prove that your pain has deeply moved them!) Is it right to force someone into offering comfort this way? Have they ever shared their own suffering with you? Why must you market your misery? Why must someone become a customer for your pain?
 
Learn to swallow your suffering, and you can build strength. There's no philosopher's stone greater than sorrow. If you don't want to build strength, that's fine too—but don't bother anyone else. There are many kinds of defeat in this world, and one of them is this: when someone secretly laughs at your pain.
 
When you list out your personal sorrows, many people get so annoyed they don't even read your messages or reply, some are so afraid they won't even answer your calls. Who has that kind of patience? And even if they do, why should they give it to you? People have enough suffering of their own—who has time to listen to the saga of your sadness? Why are you even asking for such patience and time from anyone? Why should your feelings touch another person? Think about the reason before you ask.
 
Laughter is meant to be shared; sorrow is meant to be hidden.
 
Grow up! Nobody likes crybabies—people run when they see them coming.
 
(You know this already, but let me gently remind you... people are basically of two kinds: those who share their sorrows, and those who keep them hidden.)