"The whole business of living," Joe said, " is a business of waiting, and of course unconsciously every man born into the body of a human being is waiting for that body to wear out and go back to the mud. He’s waiting to die. But since he knows he’s apt to have the use of the body for thirty or forty years more, he goes to work and waits for other things. When he’s a boy, he waits to be a man. Then he waits for a wife. Then he waits for a son. Then he waits to talk to his son. Or if he doesn’t want to wait for a wife at first, he waits for some girl who will do something to the stuff that keeps his body alive - something that will make him feel that he is more than just a half dozen kinds of juices ebbing and flowing through a body - make him feel more than just another foolish, feeble, ridiculous animal in a suit of clothes - make him feel immortal. In other words, he waits for experience - he waits to fall in love - for the wisdom he suspects will come to him through love. Or if he doesn’t want to wait for a wife, or for the wisdom of love, maybe he goes to work and waits to do something - make something of himself, as the saying is: make himself known to a great many people instead of only to his family and a small circle of friends - make himself known to God, as a matter of fact - write a song, make some great discovery in science or poetry - reveal truth - compel the blessing of God. But all it ever comes to is that he wants to live. He wants to beat the rap. He knows he’s going to die sooner or later no matter what he does, but he wants to get the best of death if he can. Everything we’ve got in this world has come out of this struggle of man with death - all our song, all our poetry, all our science, all our truth, all our religion, all our dancing, all our government - everything: commerce, invention, machinery, ships, trains, airplanes, weapons, rooms, windows, doors, door-knobs, clothes, cooking, ventilation, refrigeration - shoes. Do you follow me, Jackson?

"Sure I follow you," I said. "How did you happen to figure all this stuff out?"

"How?" Joe said. "I’m telling you. I want God to smile on me. I want to be handsome. I want the eyes of children to fill with light when they see me. I want beautiful women to like me. I want to live as greatly as it’s possible for me to live in the carcass I’ve got."

William Saroyan
The Adventures of Wesley Jackson