As with your intellectual tree of Life, there have been many a man and woman who have left us with the legacy of life. A subdirectory of sorts, passing along their wisdom, in this case as a story of a knight Errant.

One of my favorite's is Don Cervantes' Man of La Mancha. (Click on the link to discover more information about this story written during the time of the Spanish Inquisition.) It is a love story of sorts, love of life, dreams, truths, illusions, insanity....But it's not for me to say, it's for you to discover that which is true to you.

The following is the dialogue to set the stage.

THE DUKE: (with violent contempt) This La Mancha - what is it like?
THE GOVERNOR: An empty place. Great wide plains.
PRISONER: A desert.
THE GOVERNOR: A wasteland.
THE DUKE: Which apparently grows lunatics.
CERVANTES: I would say, rather ... men of illusion.
THE DUKE: Much the same. Why are you poets so fascinated with madmen?
CERVANTES: I suppose ... we have much in common.
THE DUKE: You both turn your backs on life.
CERVANTES: We both select from life what pleases us.
THE DUKE: A man must come to terms with life as it is!
CERVANTES: I have lived nearly fifty years, and I have seen life as it is. Pain, misery, hunger ... cruelty beyond belief. I have heard the singing from taverns and the moans from bundles of filth on the streets. I have been a soldier and seen my comrades fall in battle ... or die more slowly under the lash in Africa. I have held them in my arms at the final moment. These were men who saw life as it is, yet they died despairing. No glory, no gallant last words ... only their eyes filled with confusion, whimpering the question: "Why?" I do not think they asked why they were dying, but why they had lived. (He rises, and through the following speech moves into the character of DON QUIXOTE as a musical underscore and change of setting begin) When life itself seems lunatic, who knows where madness lies? Perhaps to be too practical is madness. To surrender dreams -- this may be madness. To seek treasure where there is only trash. Too much sanity may be madness. And maddest of all, to see life as it is and not as it should be. (The music has stated the "I Am I, Don Quixote" theme thinly during the preceding speech, and the prison and prisoners have disappeared. Cervantes is isolated in limbo; the "horses" have appeared. The lights change)
DON QUIXOTE: (Singing) I am I, Don Quixote ... The Lord of La Mancha ... Destroyer of evil am I ... I will march to the sound of the trumpets of glory ... Forever to conquer