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“Levin could not look calmly at his brother, could not be natural and calm in his presence. When he entered the sick-room, his eyes and his attention were unconsciously dimmed, and he could not see or distinguish the details of his brother's condition. He smelt the awful foul air, saw the dirt and disorder, the twisted way his brother lay, and hear the groans, and felt powerless to do anything to help. It never occurred to him to analyse the details of the sick man's situation, to consider how the body was lying under the quilt, how the emaciated legs and loins and spine were doubled up, and see if they could not be made more comfortable, whether something could not be done to male things, if not easier, at least less wretched. A cold shudder would creep down his back when he began to think of all these details. He was convinced beyond doubt that nothing could be done t prolong his brother's life or to alleviate his suffering, and the sick man was conscious of his brother's conviction that there was no help for him, and was exasperated. And this made Levin's lot still more painful. To be in the sick-room was torture to him, not be there still worse. He went in and out on all sorts of pretexts, incapable of remaining alone.” — Leo Tolstoy