Happiness serves hardly any other purpose than to make unhappiness possible. - Marcel Proust

Not caring for their lives' is it?
Why, what in the world is there that we should care for if it's not our lives, the only gift the Lord never offers us a second time.

آموخت که آدم به غیبت عادت می­کند و این عادت به نبودن عزیزان از نبودنشان ناگوارتر است.

To such beings, such fugitive beings, their own nature and our anxiety fasten wings. And even when they are with us the look in their eyes seems to warn us that they are about to take flight. The proof of this beauty itself, that wings add is that often, for us, the same person is alternately winged and wingless.