“Sometimes,” said he, “in my voyages, when I was a man and commanded
other men, I have seen the heavens overcast, the sea rage and foam, the
storm arise, and, like a monstrous bird, beating the two horizons with
its wings. Then I felt that my vessel was a vain refuge, that trembled
and shook before the tempest. Soon the fury of the waves and the sight
of the sharp rocks announced the approach of death, and death then
terrified me, and I used all my skill and intelligence as a man and a
sailor to struggle against the wrath of God. But I did so because I was
happy, because I had not courted death, because to be cast upon a bed
of rocks and seaweed seemed terrible, because I was unwilling that I, a
creature made for the service of God, should serve for food to the gulls
and ravens. But now it is different; I have lost all that bound me to
life, death smiles and invites me to repose; I die after my own manner,
I die exhausted and broken-spirited, as I fall asleep when I have paced
three thousand times round my cell.”

— Edmond Dant├Ęs

Le Comte de Monte-Cristo (The Count of Monte Cristo), Alexandre Dumas