"This shows that everybody's fate is predestined. Right up to the end they cherish foolish fancies; then when the blow strikes and there's no help for it, blockheads let it go at that while sensitive souls can only shed tears and lament to the breeze or moon. The dead may have no consciousness but, alas, there is truly no end to the anguish of the living. So it seems we are worse off than rocks or plants which can rest at peace, having no knowledge or feeling."