"I am looking for him who has got down to that most unappeasable yearning in his being; to that in him which is such that, so long as everything else comes to him but this comes to him not, then everything that does come to him turns to dust in his hands and ashes in his mouth; to that life in him which is such that once he does find it and does yield himself to it utterly—then, though everything else is taken away from him, though he has to go cold and hungry and alone, though he knows no human being on this earth into whose eyes he can look and find understanding, though everything he has sweated bloody sweat for men bring to what they call failure, and his very life they bring to what they call death, he shall yet be able to go his way softly singing in his heart. To do this is to live; and to fail to do this, no matter how good the reason for the failure may be, is to do what most men do—to die without ever having really lived at all."