What is death? We know the organism inevitably dies. Scientists may prolong it for another 50 years – God knows why, but they may – but the organism, by constant strain, usage, disease or old age, comes to an end. Is that what death is? Is that what one is frightened of? Or is one frightened of not being, psychologically not being? Is it possible to die every day to everything that you know, that is, die to every image of pleasure and pain – die to all that?