Lipa, too, left us.

She writes me: 'Read.' Ah, I am reading! I am reading!' she exclaimed, with despair in her voice, and after a moment's silence she went on sadly: "Books do not contain what the heart needs most, and there's much I cannot understand in them.

And then, I feel weary to be reading all the time alone, alone! I want to speak to a man, but there is none to speak to! I feel disgusted.

We live but once, and it is high time for me to live, and yet there is not a soul! Wherefore shall I live?
Lipa tells me: 'Read and you will understand it.' I want bread and she gives me a stone.

I understand what one must do--one must stand up for what he loves and believes.