Desire is squashed against need: that is the obsessive phenomenon of all amorous sentiment.
This capacity for living easily and familiarly at an extraordinary level of abstraction is the source of modern man’s power. With it he has transformed the planet, annihilated space, and trebled the world’s population. But it is also a power which has, like everything human, its negative side, in the desolating sense of rootlessness, vacuity, and the lack of concrete feeling that assails modern man in his moments of real anxiety.
I don’t know if it’s weird or appropriate that there’s no word for the concept of “concepts that we do not have words for.