And I came to understand, in a way I never had before, that books are truly the stuff of miracles. I even dared to dream that someday, somehow, I might surround myself with books from many times and many tongues.

What makes this danger so terrible is that humans tip the balance of your world. No other species can make such a difference, for good or ill. If humans can live in harmony with other forms of life, the world rejoices. If not, the world suffers--and may not survive.

You're saying that our souls and the stars and the wings of a butterfly are all somehow connected?

Stories help me. To live. To work. To find the meaning hidden in every dream, ever leaf, every drop of dew.

And now, my friends, a dragon's toast! Here's to life's little blessings: war, plagues, and all forms of evil. Their presence keeps us alert--- and their absence keeps us grateful.

Why is it that what we do know can save us, but what we don't know can kill us?

The leaf, still green, must someday fall such grief and joy to live at all.