When you close your eyes, close your ears to God's way, you will soon prefer your own ideas to the ideas of God. You come to a stage where your own evil seems to you good and God's good seems to be evil.
“A branch, broken and split, dangling year after year, clicking its song to the wind. With neither leaves nor bark, bear, wan, worn out by a long life and a long death. Its song echoes, cracking and persistent. Stubbornly, it resounds with secret anguish. For yet another summer. Yet another winter.”