Molière died of tuberculosis at the age of 51, while on stage in the middle of a live performance of, precisely, Le Malade Imaginaire. Yes, imaginaire. Imagine Molière could have doubled his longevity, that is, living 100 years. How many more genious-pieces would his intelligence and imagination have created?
Mozart would correct me, arguing that “Neither intelligence nor imagination, nor both together, go to the making of genius. Love, love, love, that is the soul of genius.”