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A life's a life, but is it still, when it's reduced to a boy, living in hell? Writhing in pain, chained to a bed, "it's a sin to kill" is what you said, but your morality does not eat cancer. More dead than alive, nothing to do but suffer. Quality or quantity, who's to decide? If someone wants to die, why should they be denied? Your morality doesn't erase misery… it only ensures. When it all comes down, if the choice isn't yours, your life's not your own
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