There are few things humans are more dedicated to than unhappiness. Had we been
placed on earth by a malign creator for the exclusive purpose of suffering, we
would have good reason to congratulate ourselves on our enthusiastic response to
the task. Reasons to be inconsolable abound: the frailty of our bodies, the
fickleness of love, the insincerities of social life, the compromises of
friendship, the deadening effects of habit. In the face of such persistent ills,
we might naturally expect that no event would be awaited with greater
anticipation than the moment of our own extinction.
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