Recognition is a reward, a gratification. A trophy. An illusion. A puff of red smoke that gets in our eyes, often blurring our vision and clouding our ego. A red smoke that mingles and mixes with tears so that when fools look at us, they believe them to be tears of blood and are influenced by them. The best reward is instead a fair death. While we’re still alive, though, the highest honour consists in knowing the meaning of justice. The best reward doesn’t lie in gratification from others, with all the associated fanfare, rather it lies in our own awareness.