wanted, became convinced that all who like myself had sought inknowledge for the meaning of life had found nothing. And not only
had they found nothing, but they had
plainlyacknowledged that thevery thing which made me
despair --
namely the senselessness of
life -- is the one indubitable thing man can know. I sought everywhere; and thanks to a life spent in
learning,
and thanks also to my relations with the scholarly world, I hadaccess to scientists and scholars in all branches of knowledge, and
they
readily showed me all their knowledge, not only in books butalso in conversation, so that I had at my
disposal all that science
has to say on this question of life. I was long
unable to believe that it gives no other reply to
life's questions than that which it
actually does give. It longseemed to me, when I saw the important and serious air with which
science announces its conclusions which have nothing in common withthe real questions of human life, that there was something I had