When I open them, most of the books have the smell of an earlier time leaking out between the pages - a special odor of the knowledge and emotions that for ages have been calmly resting between the covers. Breathing it in, I glance through a few pages before returning each book to its shelf.

Everyone, deep in their hearts, is waiting for the end of the world to come.

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

It takes years to build up, it takes moments to destroy.

If a person remains tense for a long time he might not notice it himself, but it’s like his nerves are a piece of rubber that has been stretched out. It’s hard to go back to the original shape.

I may not be the most likable person in the world, but I try not to upset people.

When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.