‘Notwithstanding all the losses and privations I have undergone, I passionately love life, I love life for life, and, in truth, it’s as if right now I was, each istant, going to begin my life […] and I still cannot absolutely discern whether I am approaching the end of my life or whether I am on the verge of starting it: here is the fundamental mark of my character; and also, perhaps, of reality.’

(F.M. Dostoevskij)

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