His was the face of his century. He was the life of his century. Through his will and energy, and yes, genius, he encompassed as much as one man can; the joy and the anguish of his times; their romance, their horrors, and, of course, what laughter we could find in them. He was a flawed man, a haunted man, a tormented man. Which is to say, he was only human. But with this uncanny ability to reflect and refract our humanity back at us.
CHARLES Spencer CHAPLIN //April 16, 1889 —— December 25, 1977//