1 I shall die easier with your forgiveness, he read.
2 It was the world in which his father and mother had lived and died.
3 He would clearly have died sooner than own it was hard work for him.
4 But Enoch had not died, and so it followed that everyone did not die.
5 Everyone knew that he must inevitably die soon, that he was half dead already.
6 He did not believe that those he loved could die, above all that he himself would die.
7 Bad people, that is those Seryozha did not like, they might die, but the good might all be like Enoch.
8 I only know that she thanks God for everything, for every misfortune, and thanks God too that her husband died.
9 For an instant her face fell, and the mocking gleam in her eyes died away; but the word love threw her into revolt again.
10 "To see her once and then to bury myself, to die," he thought, and as he was paying farewell visits, he uttered this thought to Betsy.
11 "Parfen Denisitch now, for all he was no scholar, he died a death that God grant every one of us the like," she said, referring to a servant who had died recently.
12 "Yes, to choose between me and Vronsky," thought Levin, and the dead thing that had come to life within him died again, and only weighed on his heart and set it aching.
13 But he had been told that all men die; he had asked people, indeed, whom he trusted, and they too, had confirmed it; his old nurse, too, said the same, though reluctantly.
14 Everyone wished for nothing but that he should die as soon as possible, and everyone, concealing this, gave him medicines, tried to find remedies and doctors, and deceived him and themselves and each other.
15 Her face looked weary, and there was not that play of eagerness in it, peeping out in her smile and her eyes; but for a single instant, as she glanced at him, there was a flash of something in her eyes, and although the flash died away at once, he was happy for that moment.
16 When she poured herself out her usual dose of opium, and thought that she had only to drink off the whole bottle to die, it seemed to her so simple and easy, that she began musing with enjoyment on how he would suffer, and repent and love her memory when it would be too late.
17 When, after her separation from her husband, she gave birth to her only child, the child had died almost immediately, and the family of Madame Stahl, knowing her sensibility, and fearing the news would kill her, had substituted another child, a baby born the same night and in the same house in Petersburg, the daughter of the chief cook of the Imperial Household.
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