never put ice on an empty heart

Among the two or three human beings who never said anything not worth saying is Anton Chekhov, the Russian writer.

Upon his deathbed, he either did or did not ask for a glass of champagne. It's unclear whether his attending doctor or his wife ordered the champagne for him, or if he requested the champagne himself.

In any event, taking the glass, he is supposed to have said, "it's been a long time since I drank champagne," though his wife, Olga, may have said what he's reported to have said. What is clear by all reports is that Chekhov drained the glass of champagne, turned on his side and stopped breathing.

Earlier that same day, on what would become his deathbed, Olga brought an icebag to Chekhov, thinking the ice would cool his fever. Chekhov, the kindest and most civilized of men, pushed the ice away, saying, "one doesn't put ice on an empty heart."

Janet Malcolm writes of this incident and others in her book, Reading Chekhov, A Critical Journey. Chekhov, a doctor, might have actually said "you shouldn't put ice on an empty stomach." Each of the half dozen or so of Chekhov bios, including one report written his widow, present different versions. Even Raymond Carver gets into the picture, basing a short story--"Errand"--on the Chekhov death scene;  Malcolm excoriates Carver for sinning 'greatly against the spirit of fiction.'

We must watch what we say and never put ice on our empty hearts.