The following sentences of Tolstoy, who have a great place in world literature. How is it possible to leave behind books that can be considered as masterpieces and not so much as a depressive and even suicidal?
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I could only know that the best thing I could do was to hang myself. As his thoughts and pain deepened, he wrote these lines.
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Everything is empty. How happy is he to the unborn. Death is better than life.
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