"The comfort of having a friend may be taken away, but not that of having had one" — Lucius Annaeus Seneca

Life without idealism is empty indeed. We just hope or starve to death

Let no one till his death be called unhappy. Measure not the work until the day's out and the labour done

Let no man fear to die, we love to sleep all, and death is but the sounder sleep.

I feel monotony and death to be almost the same

To eat bread without hope is still slowly to starve to death

Fear death? - to feel the fog in my throat, the mist in my face

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