In response to Blinding
Interesting thoughts wontspilladrop.
I've read in Captains and the Kings a similar line of thought (or maybe not so similar, but related nevertheless).
"I was feeling, well, depressed, and I happened to ask Harry what a man lives for. The average man. Even us. We work all our lives, struggle, plot, contrive, plan, aim, direct our activities. That is our major occupation. Sometimes we like what we do, and it absorbs us. But in the main the average man does not. So, I asked Harry, what in the hell do we live for. For our daily bread, and endless work, and fighting, and marrying and having children, and disappointment, and worse? What are our pleasures? A few hours of liberty a week, whether we live in a mansion or hovel, a few opportunities for adultery and a few humdrum pleasures, which most of us are too tired to enjoy anyway. Then we die, and that is all there is. Even those born to great riches and luxury and idleness - for what do they live? Endless galas, parties, envies, traveling, dressing - and the same dreary recreations of a coal miner or a shopkeeper or a factory hand. Is that all there is to a man's life? If so, I said to Harry, then it is not worth living." - page 599-600 Taylor Caldwell.
I think it was a sentiment echoed throughout the history of man's existence. And I too, is in search for a convincing answer.
I've read in Captains and the Kings a similar line of thought (or maybe not so similar, but related nevertheless).
"I was feeling, well, depressed, and I happened to ask Harry what a man lives for. The average man. Even us. We work all our lives, struggle, plot, contrive, plan, aim, direct our activities. That is our major occupation. Sometimes we like what we do, and it absorbs us. But in the main the average man does not. So, I asked Harry, what in the hell do we live for. For our daily bread, and endless work, and fighting, and marrying and having children, and disappointment, and worse? What are our pleasures? A few hours of liberty a week, whether we live in a mansion or hovel, a few opportunities for adultery and a few humdrum pleasures, which most of us are too tired to enjoy anyway. Then we die, and that is all there is. Even those born to great riches and luxury and idleness - for what do they live? Endless galas, parties, envies, traveling, dressing - and the same dreary recreations of a coal miner or a shopkeeper or a factory hand. Is that all there is to a man's life? If so, I said to Harry, then it is not worth living." - page 599-600 Taylor Caldwell.
I think it was a sentiment echoed throughout the history of man's existence. And I too, is in search for a convincing answer.