When you compare the sorrows of real life to the pleasures of the imaginary one, you will never want to live again, only to dream forever.
Alexandre DumasDoes the open wound in another's breast soften the pain of the gaping wound in our own? Or does the blood which is welling from another man's side staunch that which is pouring from our own? Does the general anguish of our fellow creatures lessen our own private and particular anguish? No, no, each suffers on his own account, each struggles with his own grief, each sheds his own tears.
Alexandre Dumas