The marble which was chiseled¹ for me——

    A boat with a furled sail at rest in a harbor.

    In truth it pictures not my destination

    But my life.

    For love was offered me and I shrank from its disillusionment；

    Sorrow knocked at my door， but I was afraid；

    Ambition called to me， but I dreaded² the chances.

    Yet all the while I hungered for meaning in my life.

    And now I know that we must lift the sail

    And catch the winds of destiny

    Wherever they drive the boat.

    To put meaning in one's life may end in madness，

    But life without meaning is the torture

    Of restlessness and vague desire——

    It is a boat longing³ for the sea and yet afraid.