If I die then, well and good.

I select a likely baby and go straight on.

But suppose I hang about till eighty and die a childish old gentleman with a mind all gone to seed.
What am I going to do then?
I shall have to begin all over again: perhaps worse off than I was before.

That's not going to help us much." Joan explained it to him: that old age might be likened to an illness.

A genius lies upon a bed of sickness and babbles childish nonsense.