By then I knew that everything good and bad left an emptiness when it stopped. But if it was bad, the emptiness filled up by itself. If it was good you could only fill it by finding something better. //
Although he knew many people in the town by name or face, the mute was his only friend. They would idle in the quiet room and drink the ales. He would talk, and the words created themselves from the dark mornings spent in the streets or in his room alone. The words were formed and spoken with relief.
Perhaps I’m being unfair to you,” he said, still not sounding like himself. “My feeling must be of the species they call passion…One thing I know for sure: without you it’s the end of me, and with you it’s also the end. It makes no difference where you are: far or near, you’re always present. I also know that I could hate you a good deal more than I could love you…I’m sorry that I had to fall in love with someone like you.
— Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Adolescent (via girlinlondon)