Re-reading my favorite piece again

"Yes, I am making them wretched," he thought. "They are sorry, but it will be better for them when I die." He wished to say this but had not the strength to utter it. "Besides, why speak? I must act," he thought. With a look at his wife he indicated his son and said, "Take him away... sorry for him... sorry for you too..." He tried to add, "Forgive me," but said "Forego" and waved his hand, knowing that He whose understanding mattered would understand.

"And death... where is it?"

-The Death of Ivan Ilych By Leo Tolstoy