Man the individual consoles himself for his passing with the thought of the offspring or the works which he leaves behind.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
With eye upraised his master's looks to scan, The joy, the solace, and the aid of man; The rich man's guardian, and the poor man's friend, The only creature faithful to the end.
It always seems to me so odd that when a man dies, he takes out with him all the knowledge that he has got in his lifetime whilst sowing his wild oats or winning successes. And he leaves his sons or younger brothers to go through all the work of learning it over again from their own experience.
Man is the only creature we know, that, when the term of his natural life is ended, leaves the memory of himself behind him.
The human father has to be confronted and recognized as human, as man who created a child and then, by his absence, left the child fatherless and then Godless.
In every real man a child is hidden that wants to play.
Once we realize the extraordinary power we have to compose our lives, we'll move from passive, conditioned thinking to being co-creators of our fate.
Humanity at the centre of the primates, Homo sapiens, in humanity, is the end-product of a gradual work of creation, the successive sketches for which still surround us on every side.
Whoever undertakes to create soon finds himself engaged in creating himself.
We await the successsive births in the soul of the child. We give all possible material, that nothing may lack to the groping soul, and then we watch for the perfect faculty to come, safeguarding the child from interruption so that it may carry its efforts through.
Man appears for a little while to laugh and weep, to work and play, and then to go to make room for those who shall follow him in the never-ending cycle.