No one man, in the most singular form of his existence, is significant. One man has mass; one man has height and weight and width. Measurements and proportions. But standing alone on an island deserted, a single grain of sand means no more to a bank without its kin than one grape means to a vineyard. Meaning lies in numbers, variation, and variety. For if the world were blue, all things bathed in sapphire, blue would mean nothing. It would be the norm and subsequently have lost its need for individuality. It is with the introduction of a new color, for example, pink, that there becomes a need to define blue as its own shade. Blue is no longer alone ergo is meaningfully set apart with the introduction of a break in the pattern of itself. The human experience is the very same. One man, in a room full of people he recognizes, or even one person he loves, matters. He matters to someone else and therefore matters in the grand scheme of things. Si monumentum requiris, circumspice—If you seek his monument, look around. Look not for a tower, but for the people whose hearts he amended before his departure.