Everyone knew he would soon and inevitably die, that he was already half dead. Every one wished that he would die quickly, and they all, concealing that feeling, brought him bottles of medicine, went to fetch medicines and doctors, and deceived him and themselves and one another. It was all a lie: a repulsive, insulting, blasphemous lie; and as a result of his character, and because he loved the dying man more than the others did, Levin felt that lie most painfully.
-Leo Tolstoy
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