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< Everyone must leave something behind when he dies, my grandfather said.  >
< A child or a book or a painting or a house or a wall built or a pair     >
< of shoes made. Or a garden planted. Something your hand touched some     >
< way so your soul has somewhere to go when you die, and when people       >
< look at that tree or that flower you planted, you're there.              >
<                                                                          >
< It doesn't matter what you do, he said, so long as you change something  >
< from the way it was before you touched it into something that's like     >
< you after you take your hands away. The difference between the man       >
< who just cuts lawns and a real gardener is in the touching, he said.     >
< The lawn-cutter might just as well not have been there at all;           >
< the gardener will be there a lifetime.                                   >
< Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451                                             >
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