Fate of the Earth

Only the man who has been robbed of his last consolation, his last refuge, who has nothing left but the naked, hopeless feeling of his unique and brief here and now and the certainty that, according to the mere laws of nature, gnats and ants, drops of water and pebbles are just as insignificant, just as important as his own historical existence lost in infinity, only the man without a crutch and a bridge and without any other meaning in life than that which he himself recognizes in life, can take the fate of the earth into his own hands. Instead of expecting the realization of values from a blind natural order and demanding justice from the stars, he begins to shape the meaningless chaotic element of unyielding random forces to the best of his ability in the sense of ideal value norms, be it by building the closed gardens of Epicurus in the midst of chaos in the spirit of Hellas, be it by teaching the living to complete themselves in the spirit, to die in the spirit in the deeper spirit of India.

Only then does life begin to have history (in a completely new sense).