He was consumed in his own regrets, his own deep thoughts. When you were as wise as he wise, you felt more alone than any ordinary man. Nobody could understand him, and nobody knew his pain. What guilt, what shame he felt because of what he had done, what he had not done. What was he to do? He knew, as he always had, but what would make him feel better? As if it mattered. It was never wise to go by emotions...

And so Albus Dumbledore chose not to do what was easy, but what was right. Even if it would cost him his life.