“And again one asks oneself what has one done with one's years. Where have you buried your best days? Have you lived or not ? Look, one says to oneself, look how cold the world is growing. Some more years will pass, and after them will come gloomy solitude; then will come old age trembling on its crutch, and after it misery and desolation. Your fantastic world will grow pale, your dreams will fade and die and will fall like the yellow leaves from the trees. ..” LifeDreamsHopes Author:Fyodor Dostoevsky, white nights