A man is the history of his breaths and thoughts, acts, atoms and wounds, love,
indifference and dislike; also of his race and nation, the soil that fed him and his
forebears, the stones and sands of his familiar places, long-silenced battles and
struggles of conscience, of the smiles of girls and the slow utterance of old
women, of accidents and the gradual action of inexorable law, of all this and
something else too, a single flame which in every way obeys the laws that
pertain to Fire itself, and yet is lit and put out from one moment to the next, and
can never be relumed in the whole waste of time to come.