It is forbidden to kill; therefore all murderers are punished unless they kill in large numbers and to the sound of trumpets.
VoltaireI have wanted to kill myself a hundred times, but somehow I am still in love with life. This ridiculous weakness is perhaps one of our more stupid melancholy propensities, for is there anything more stupid than to be eager to go on carrying a burden which one would gladly throw away, to loathe oneโs very being and yet to hold it fast, to fondle the snake that devours us until it has eaten our hearts away?
Voltaire