"And is death such a terror?" He props his chin up on a folded hand, far too relaxed to be called a fist, and looks at Cesare thoughtfully, as if he starts the spinach now it'll be ready before the chicken. "Several people seem to think we're in an afterlife now. Others are sure we aren't, because they think they know what death is like, and that the death they've seen is the only possible truth."
"Aa," he nods, with a little smile, a not unsympathetic this is how it is, ne. "That's what you have to do. That, or find a new way to excel without obscurity; some new path of your own brightness, one not already marked out for you."