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There once was a very wise man. And like all wise men, he was very inquisitive throughout his lifetime, for one must be inquisitive to accumulate knowledge. Toward the end of the sage's life, a young boy approached and asked a question:

"You are very intelligent and wise, and everyone looks up to you." he said, "Do you love the life you have lived?"

The sage sat there. At first, pondering, but then his face began to quiver. He was holding back the waterfalls which now dwelled behind his cold and glassy eyes. As a wise man, he had been approached by many little boys and girls, with many silly questions, and gave them many silly answers. As a wise man, he had been approached by many men and women, with many inquiries - silly or not. But he had never, in the entirety of his lifespan, been asked such a question as this.

Finally, once he had thought his thoughts and collected himself so that he would not burst unto a fit of weeping, he replied thus:

"Little boy, I know what it is like to know and think many things that most have never considered. I am revered for my knowledge and wisdom, and so I know what it is like to be revered. I have traveled many places alone, and experimented alone, so I know what it is like to be alone. Some might say I have lived a wonderous life, full of adventure and excitement and reverence. But I do not know what it is like to revere, and I do not know what it is like to not know, and I do not know what it is like to not be alone. Therefore, I do not know what it is like to love the life I have lived.