…………So he would get up every day, more and more sweet and joyous and full of love. When the doctor, an old German called Eisenschmidt, came: “Well, doctor, have I another day in this world?” he would ask, joking.
………… “You’ll live many days yet,” the doctor would answer, “and months and years too.”
…………“Months and years!” he would exclaim. “Why reckon the days? One day is enough for a man to know all happiness. My dear ones, why do we quarrel, try to outshine each other and keep grudges against each other? Let’s go straight into the garden, walk and play there, love, appreciate, and kiss each other, and glorify life.”
…………“Your son cannot last long,” the doctor told my mother, as she accompanied him to the door, “The disease is affecting his brain.”

Brothers Karamazov (translation, Garnett.)