In crowded cities, among cultivated plains, or on the desart mountains, pain is thickly sown, and if we can tear up but one of these noxious weeds, or more, if in its stead we can sow one seed of corn, or plant one fair flower, let that be motive sufficient against suicide.

Let us not desert our task while there is the slightest hope that we may in a future day do this.
"Indeed I dare not die.

I have a mother whose support and hope I am.

I have a friend who loves me as his life, and in whose breast I should infix a mortal sting if I ungratefully left him.

So I will not die.
Nor shall you, my friend; cheer up; cease to weep, I entreat you.