I want to know everything there is to know about Lewis and Clark.

In the voice of one who hungers for the fullness of life, Robert Sean Leonard once declared: “I want to know everything there is to know about Lewis and Clark. And I want to do the Sunday crossword in less than an hour. I want to be the best dad in the world. I want to play Richard II, and I want to win another Tony award.” At first, these words may sound like the musings of a man listing his ambitions—but beneath them lies something far deeper: the ancient human yearning for mastery, meaning, and balance. This is the confession of a soul that refuses to live partially; a declaration that to be alive is to strive, to learn, to love, and to create, all at once.

In the style of the ancients, we would call this the pursuit of wholeness—the harmony between mind, heart, and spirit. To “want to know everything about Lewis and Clark” is to honor curiosity, that divine spark which drives civilization forward. It is to look upon the explorers of the past not merely as figures in history, but as mirrors of one’s own longing to discover, to venture beyond the horizon of ignorance. To “do the Sunday crossword in less than an hour” speaks to the same impulse—to sharpen the intellect, to challenge the mind until it gleams with clarity. These are not trivial pursuits; they are expressions of the ancient command: Know thyself, and in knowing, know the world.

Then comes the vow that pierces deepest: “I want to be the best dad in the world.” Here, the ambition of the artist becomes the devotion of the human being. For what good is mastery of words or stage if one fails to master the art of love? The ancients knew this too—that virtue begins at home. The greatest legacy is not written on scrolls or carved in marble, but in the hearts of those we raise, guide, and cherish. To desire greatness as a father is not vanity; it is reverence for the sacred duty of shaping life itself.

Next, Leonard’s wish “to play Richard II” invokes the timeless bond between the artist and the truth. To embody Shakespeare’s tragic king is to explore the full tapestry of human emotion—ambition, pride, downfall, and redemption. The actor, like the philosopher, becomes a vessel for understanding the soul. And in this, Leonard speaks for all who labor in art: to become what one studies, to live many lives within one. This desire reflects the ancient call of the Muses, the whisper of creation that beckons the spirit toward beauty, meaning, and depth.

And finally, he speaks of the Tony award—a symbol of recognition, yes, but more than that, a token of mastery earned through perseverance. In this we see the harmony of outer and inner achievement: the balance between selfless creation and the rightful joy of being acknowledged. The ancients, too, celebrated their poets and heroes, not for vanity’s sake, but as proof that excellence is possible. To win a crown, whether of laurel or of light, is not to boast—it is to fulfill the potential of one’s gifts, and in doing so, to honor those gifts themselves.

Consider, then, the story of Leonardo da Vinci, whose mind and heart sought the infinite. He, too, wanted to know all things—to dissect the mysteries of the body, to paint the soul’s expression upon a face, to design machines that might fly like birds. He did not separate science from art, nor intellect from wonder. He, like Leonard, embodied the eternal truth that to live fully is to pursue many kinds of greatness with equal devotion. The world remembers him not for perfection, but for the boundless flame of his curiosity and courage.

Thus, the lesson is clear and timeless: do not narrow the soul to one pursuit. The human spirit was not made to crawl along a single path but to soar across many skies. Seek knowledge, yes—but also joy, connection, and compassion. Aspire toward mastery, but never forget love. For a life that holds both art and affection, ambition and humility, achievement and tenderness—that is the life the ancients would have called noble.

So let the words of Robert Sean Leonard remind you: go all the way, in all directions. Learn as the explorer learns, love as the parent loves, strive as the artist strives. Let every dream within you rise and speak. For in the end, it is not the individual goal that matters, but the wholeness of the journey—the radiant completeness of a soul that dared to live every facet of its truth.