In one of their last meetings, Gabor Katona GS and S. Pamela Lewis GS were planning a reading course on philosophy for this semester. To the chagrin of Lewis and the professor, Katona suggested they read the 24 volumes of Sigmund Freud's work.
"We couldn't even do 12 [volumes]. And he would understand, and have digested it, and have thought about it and come to his own views and opinions," Lewis said. "That's how committed he was, how enthusiastic he was."
Friends, colleagues and professors remember Katona — who police said committed suicide in his Lockhart Hall room on Jan. 20 — with similar warmth.
Katona, 32, was a second-year student in the University's history of science program. It was the University's first suicide since 1993, and no note was left, police said.
Those who knew Katona described him as an inspirational, caring and sympathetic man with a good sense of humor. He was also widely acknowledged as one of the rising stars in the study of the history of science.
Katona is survived by his parents in Hungary, his one-year-old son from a previous marriage and a close girlfriend.
His mischievous smile and exceptional intellect were trademarks of his character.
"He had a spark in his eye," said Lewis, a first-year student also in the history of science program. She said she and Katona had planned to have lunch on Jan. 20, but he wasn't there.
"He was an incredible, sensitive compassionate human being. I miss him," Lewis said. "He was like an intellectual mentor and inspiration for me."
He was always friendly, those close to him said. "There was really nothing you couldn't talk to him about, any field, any period. Nothing that he wasn't curious about. He always loved to talk to people about their work," said Guy Geltner GS, one of Katona's best friends.
A man of history
Katona arrived at the University in 2001 from Hungary with a quadruple B.A. in aesthetics, Hungarian literature and linguistics, English literature and linguistics, and philosophy; two master's degrees in aesthetics and philosophy; and proficiency in English, Hungarian, Latin, German and Greek.
He had also written a book in Hungary, "Paradigms of Self-Knowledge," and many articles and translations.

Born in Budapest, Katona did his undergraduate and graduate work at the University of Pecs, receiving degrees in 1996, 1999 and 2000. He had also studied in the United States as an exchange student at the Central Washington University.
Princeton and the people around him really gave him joy, Lewis said.
Katona lived an active life. He could be seen around campus playing basketball, whiffle ball or even break dancing, his friend John Dimoia GS said.
"He did normal stuff. We had drinks," Geltner said. "He had a girlfriend that he loved very much. Her name was Aya."
Katona, an only child, also had a deep affection for his parents, who live in Budapest, said close friend Geltner. He kept in touch with his parents through email and talked to them two or three times per week, Geltner added.
Several of Katona's professors said he was the best student they ever had.
"In forty years, I don't recall ever having a student submit work at that level of intellectual maturity and comprehension," said Dan Robinson, who was a visiting professor at the University last year.
"There isn't any doubt in my mind that within two or three years of his completing his work, he would have been making an impact on the field of the history of science," he continued.
In a letter of recommendation to the University for Katona, Antal Bokay, a professor at the University of Pecs, wrote, "In the 25 years of my university career, Gabor Katona has probably been the most gifted student I have met."
Katona's dissertation topic was the history of psychoanalysis, the branch of psychotherapy started by Freud. His dissertation adviser, history professor Elizabeth Lunbeck, was impressed by the originality of his work.
At the time of his death, Katona was preparing a paper he presented in December on the concept of the unconscious in Freud and how people learn to forget.
"He just read text in a way that's rare," she said. "He read himself into them and he saw things that other people didn't see."
In his work and manner, Katona taught others.
"You couldn't have a conversation with him and not learn something," said history professor Michael Mahoney.
"His footnotes were becoming legendary. You'd look at the books [listed in his footnotes] and think, well, that's a semester's reading right there!" Mahoney said.
In his last correspondence with Katona, about a week before his death, history professor Bastiaan van Fraasen had emailed him to say he received an A on his last paper, about Francis Bacon and other 17th Century philosophers and the improvement of the mind.
A missed friend
All of Katona's friends admired his sharp mind coupled with a powerful memory.
"He was a very serious student. I think we all admired that," said Geltner. "But that didn't keep him locked up in his room."
Katona was always pushing boundaries.
"He set his own parameters," Dimoia said. "He was not the type of person who would ever take any idea for granted."
Robinson said an image he always associated with Katona was the cabbies in Budapest playing speed chess while they wait for customers. Like the cabbies, Robinson said, Katona seized every chance to expand his horizons.
"People liked him a lot because he pushed people further, just as he was pushing himself," said history professor João Biehl.
"He was always raising the bar of intellectual conversation, but he could be funny and light, too," Biehl said. "He will be missed."