Poor lad, so he existed too!

Yesterday , when they told me that the assistant in the tobacconist’s had committed suicide, I couldn’t believe it . Poor lad, so he existed too! We had all forgotten that , all of us. We who knew him only about as well as those who didn’t know him at all. We’ll forget him more easily tomorrow . But what is certain is that he had a soul, enough to kill himself . Passions? Worries? Of course. But for me, and for the rest of humanity , all that remains is the memory of a foolish smile above a grubby woolen jacket that didn’t fit properly at the shoulders. That is all that remains to me of someone who felt deeply enough to kill himself , because, after all there’s no other reason to kill oneself.
~ Fernando Pessoa - The Book of Disquiet (1916)