Strange is our situation here upon earth. Each of us

comes from for a short visit, not knowing why, yet

sometimes seeming to divine a purpose.

        From the standpoint of daily life, however,

there is one thing we do know: that man is here for

the sake of other men-- above all for those upon

whose smile and well-being our own happiness

depends, and slso for the countless unknown souls

with whose fate we are connected by a bond of

sympathy. Many times a day I realize how much

my own outer and inner life is built upon the

labors of my fellow men, both living and dead,

and how earnestly I must exert myself in order to

give in return as much as I have received. My

peace of mind is often troubled by the depressing

sense that I have borrowed too heavily from  the

work of other men.

           To ponder interminably over the reason for

one's own existence or the meaning of life in

general seems to me , from an objective point of

view, to be sheer folly. And yet everyone  holds

certain ideals by which he guides his aspiration and

his judgement. The ideals which have always shone

before me and filled me with the joy of living are

goodness, beauty, and truth. To make a goal of

comfort and happiness has never appealed to me; a

system of ethics built on this basis would be

sufficient only for a herd of cattle.