'You deliberately torture yourself and me.' He
glanced up sharply.
"'You! What do you mean?'
"'I must not listen to such things,' I said. 'They are bad for you and
for me.'
"'How can they be bad for you--a monk?'
"'Such talk is evil--evil for everyone.'
"'I'll be silent then. I'll go into the silence. I'll go soon.'
"I understood that he thought of putting an end to himself.
"'There are few men,' I said, speaking with deliberation, with effort,
'who do not feel at some period of life that all is over for them, that
there is nothing to hope for, that happiness is a dream which will visit
them no more.'
"'Have you ever felt like that? You speak of it calmly, but have you
ever experienced it?'
"I hesitated. Then I said:
"'Yes.'
"'You, who have been a monk for so many years!'
"'Yes.'
"'Since you have been here?'
"'Yes, since then.'
"'And you would tell me that the feeling passed, that hope came again,
and the dream as you call it?'
"'I would say that what has lived in a heart can die, as we who live in
this world shall die.'
"'Ah, that--the sooner the better! But you are wrong.
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