And at
the last, when his spirit had nothing left, Kamela, who had perished to
save his own, meaningless life.
The truth now seemed so clear to him that he was amazed he had not seen
it before. All the useless struggles ended in death, either quickly, or
in humiliating sickness and old age. All earthly bonds were passing,
torn asunder by the whims of Nature and uncaring Time. And therefore
all life was futile. Still worse, it was absurd. A man who possessed
real courage only wasted it in endlessly trying to continue. Let him
take that courage instead and say, 'Enough! This torture must not be
allowed to continue. If I cannot choose the manner of my life, I will
at least choose the manner, and time of my death.' Kalus knew nothing
of existentialism, or the other fashionable philosophies of men. He
knew nothing of the religious fears of mankind, or of his angry,
despairing pride in himself. He knew only that his heart was broken,
and he wanted to die. The dull and hopeless look that had fixed itself
in the eyes of Kamela, became his as well.
He no longer cared, and had lost all fear of death.
Chapter 20
The wind howled outside them and the chamber held no warmth. His body
shivered and coughed, and excreted the pain that knew no bounds.
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