From a journal entry dated April 14, 1849:
“To see Chopin in the evening; I found him in a state of collapse, scarcely breathing. After a time, my being there seemed to do him good. He said that boredom was the worst evil he had to suffer, and I asked him whether before he fell ill he had not known the unbearable sense of emptiness that I sometimes feel. He said he could always find some occupation or other, and that having something to do, however trivial, filled in the time and dispersed the vapours. Real grief is something quite different.”
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