White Nights

by Fyodor Dostoevsky

More years will pass, followed by gloomy solitude, and then doddering old age will come on a walking-stick, to be followed by anguish and despondency. Your fantastic world will grow pale, your dreams will wither, die and scatter like yellow leaves from the trees

we thank some people for merely living at the same time as we do. I thank you for the fact that I met you, that I will remember you for all my life!’

when we are unhappy we more strongly feel the unhappiness of others;