A single gentle rain makes the grass many shades greener. So our prospects brighten . . .

But remember, child, we may all have our own story and destiny, and sometimes our seemingly bad fortune, but we're all part of a greater story too. One that transcends the soil, the wind, time even our own tears. Greater stories will have their way.

Percentages! Those are for economists, polls, and politicians. Percentages can't define your identity.

On a small planet, where minute follows minute, day follows day, year follows year, where tradition marches on with a deafening, orderly beat -sometimes the order is disturbed by a dreamer, an artist, a scribbler - sometimes the beat is changed one person at a time.

The world before us is a postcard, and I imagine the story we are writing on it.

There are many words and definitions I have never lost. But some I am only just beginning to truly understand.

I still cry on waking. I'm not sure why. I feel nothing. Nothing I can name, anyway. It's like breathing - something that happens over which I have no control. (6)