“When remedies are past, the griefs are ended by seeing the worst, which late on hopes depended. To mourn a mischief that is past and gone is the next way to draw new mischief on. What cannot be preserv’d when fortune takes, patience her injury a mockery makes. The robb’d that smiles steals something from the thief; he robs himself that spends a bootless grief.” – William Shakespeare, Othello, the Moor of Venice 1.3