When the body sinks into death, the essence of man is revealed. Man is a knot, a web, a mesh into which relationships are tied. Only those relationships matter. The body is an old crock that nobody will miss. I have never known a man to think of himself when dying. Never.

Only the unknown frightens men. But once a man has faced the unknown, that terror becomes the known.

Each man must look to himself to teach him the meaning of life. It is not something discovered: it is something molded.