As Styron remarked, depression, in its savagery, is not amenable to "a logical progression from the initial relief of symptoms to final cure." "There is no quick rescue," he said. There are no sores on the body to which one can point, no fever, no elevated blood count. There is not even a physical pain. There is, however, an emotional anguish whose depth and level of intensity taunt, harass, and forever scar. It is a cold, isolating hell, a hell that does not discriminate on the basis of class, race, ethnicity, or gender.