Monologue

I am not sonsy In fact I also have many sad There are many sleepless days Lick up with me Life has never been the only refulgence I just like to laugh Also like the fresh air and bright r I would like tea Put saline in the heart Sends out all is the faint scent

2007年3月27日

How To Grow Old
Some old people are oppressed by the fear of death. In the young there is a justification for this feeling. Young men who have reason to fear that they will be killed in a battle may justifiably feel bitter in the thought that they have been cheated of the best things that life has to offer. But in an old man who has known human joys and sorrows, and has achieved whatever work it was in him to do, the fear of death is somewhat abject and ignoble. The best way to overcome it----so at least it seems to me----is to make your interests gradually wider and more impersonal, until bit by bit the walls of the the ego recede, and your life becomes increasingly merged in the universal life. An individual human existence should be like a river----small at first, narrowly contained within its banks, and rushing passionately past rocks and over waterfalls. Gradually the river grows wider, the banks recede, the waters flow more quietly, and in the end, without any visible break, they become merged in the sea, and painlessly lose their individual being. The man who, in old age, can see his life in this way, will not suffer form the fear of death, since the things he cares for will continue. And if, with the decay of vitality, weariness increases, the thought of rest will not be unwelcome. I should wish to die while still at work, knowing that others will carry on what I can no longer do, and content in the thought that what was possible has been done.

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