That is the sort of sentiment that poets go in for and we all nod sagely and agree - until we actually think about it. The human ego, or perhaps, the human will to live, is enormous and we survice even the death of loved ones. The death of strangers, frankly, barely touches us. Well, it certainly doesn't touch me, let alone diminish me, when it is the death by suicide of yet another talented, mega-rich, Hollywood star with a wife and family and therefore much to live for. I do not suggest that psychotic depression does not exist and that its malignant features do not inflict grievous wounds on human personality. However, what I do think when I hear that the likes of Robbie Williams, after a lifetime, apparently, of booze and drug abuse has topped himself, is of those people I know personally who suffer similarly but who have the guts and determination to fight back, to keep going, to stay the course, if not for their own sake then for the sake of the people who love them.
Their life amplifies mine.