They flock together like ants, hurry east and west, run north and south.
Some are mighty, some humble.  Some are aged, some young.  They have
places to go, houses to return to.  At night they sleep, in the morning
get up.  But what does all this activity mean?  There is no ending to
their greed for long life, their grasping for profit.  What expectations
have they that they take such good care of themselves?  All that awaits
them in the end is old age and death, whose coming is swift and does not
falter for one instant.  What joy can there be in waiting for this end?
The man who is deluded by fame and profit does not fear the approach of
old age and death because he is so intoxicated by worldly cravings that
he never stops to consider how near he is to his destination.
	- Kenko, *Essays in Idleness*