I was in the company of Buckminster Fuller and a common friend. Bucky was speaking non-stop, and at first I thought it was one of his well-known detours, but when I listened carefully I noticed he wasn't making sense at all. He looked sick. I tried to calm him down, he lowered his head and said that he would die soon. Our common friend was visibly uncomfortable and didn't know what to do.
--"Don't worry Bucky, I will carry on your legacy."
But then I had a moment of doubt, and added:
--"To the best of my capability, because my intellect is very limited. And in my own understanding of things, because that's the only way I know how to do anything."
He seemed to be satisfied with what I said, and soon expired. We laid him down in a niche in the wall, and put his arms on his chest. He seemed to be profoundly asleep.