All you have to do is wait,” I explained. “Sit tight and wait for the right moment. Not try to change anything by force, just watch the drift of things. Make an effort to cast a fair eye on everything. If you do that, you just naturally know what to do. But everyone’s always too busy. They’re too talented, their schedules are too full. They’re too interested in themselves to think about what’s fair.

That's what the world is , after all: an endless battle of contrasting memories.

Not just beautiful, though--the stars are like the trees in the forest, alive and breathing. And they're watching me.

This is what it means to live on. When granted hope, a person uses it as fuel, as a guidepost to life. It is impossible to live without hope.

It's basically impossible for everybody's justice to prevail or everybody's happiness to triumph, so chaos takes over.

Sometimes when I think of life, I feel like a piece of driftwood washed up on shore.

I was thirty-seven then, strapped in my seat as the huge 747 plunged through dense cloud cover on approach to the Hamburg airport.