"Another shadow, that of my friend, also fell across my soul. It never left me--because I myself did not wish to leave it. 

But of that shadow I never spoke to anyone. I talked to it in private, and, thanks to it, was becoming reconciled with death. I have my secret bridge to the other side. When my friend's soul crossed the bridge, I felt it was weary and pale; it was too weak to shake my hand."

Zorba the Greek, Nikos Kazantzakis