Early on May 23, 1997, from 28,500 feet on Everest, I witnessed the incredible shadow of the mountain, the penumbra, forming to the west as the sun rose behind me. The full moon from the night before was still visible. The bluish cast of the atmosphere can also be seen.

I believe that, with anything in life, if you have the patience, desire and passion, you can do whatever you set your mind to.

The mountain decides whether you climb or not. The art of mountaineering is knowing when to go, when to stay, and when to retreat.

Getting to the top is optional. Getting down is mandatory.

I like things that are difficult, physically and mentally. Things that are really challenging, things that really maybe take a long time but really push me to my limits.

K2 is not some malevolent being, lurking there above the Baltoro, waiting to get us. It's just there. It's indifferent. It's an inanimate mountain made of rock, ice, and snow. The "savageness" is what we project onto it, as if we blame the peak for our own misadventures on it.

The summit is just a halfway point.