As all the external sources of happiness and pleasure are, by their nature, highly uncertain, doubtful, ephemeral, and subject to chance, they dry up in certain circumstances; moreover, this is inevitable, as they cannot always be at hand.
In old age, they almost all inevitably decline; for it is then that we are abandoned by love, banter, the pleasures of travelling and horse riding, as well as the aptitude to play a part in the world, and even by our friends and relatives who are taken from us by death. It is then, more than ever, that there returns the question of knowing what every man has for himself, because that is what will last the longest.
However, at any age, this is and remains the true and only permanent source of happiness. There is not much to be gained in this world: privation and suffering fill it, and for those who have avoided these, boredom lurks at every corner.
Moreover, it is usually mediocrity that governs this world and foolishness that speaks out. Fate is cruel and men are wretched. In such a world, the man who has a great deal within himself shines like a room decorated for Christmas, bright, warm and cheerful amid the snows and ice of a December night.
Therefore, to have a remarkable and rich individuality, and above all to have a superior mind, is undoubtedly the happiest fate on earth, however different it may be from the most brilliant fate.
For fans of Schopenhauer, and also boxing and beautiful meditations on life (and masculinity, but not exclusively), I'd recommend the Thom Jones story "The Pugilist at Rest." And all his stories, actually, but that one in particular.
Here is the full story, online: https://lithub.com/the-pugilist-at-rest-by-thom-jones/
Erik, I feel like this one might become one of your favourites - and possibly worth excerpting. Which, actually, I will now do:
"How hollow and unreal a thing is life, how deceitful are its pleasures, what horrible aspects it possesses. Is the world not rather like a hell, as Schopenhauer, that clearheaded seer—who has helped me transform my suffering into an object of understanding—was so quick to point out? They called him a pessimist and dismissed him with a word, but it is peace and self-renewal that I have found in his pages."
Integrity vs despair.....the last stage.....the gift.