There's no such thing as perfect writing, just like there's no such thing as perfect despair.

But like a boat with a twisted rudder, I kept coming back to the same place. I wasn't going anywhere. I was myself, waiting on the shore for me to return. Was that so depressing?Who knows? Maybe that was 'despair.' What Turgenev called 'disillusionment.' Or Dostoyevsky, 'hell.' Or Somerset Maugham, 'reality.' Whatever the label, I figured it was me.

You're in the middle of something wonderful, something so tremendous youmay never experience it again. But you can't really understand how wonderful it is. Thatmakes you impatient. And that, in turn, leads to despair

Think it over carefully. This is very important," I say, "because to believe something, whatever it might be, is the doing of the mind. Do you follow? When you say you believe, you allow the possibility of disappointment. And from disappointment or betrayal, there may come despair. Such is the way of the mind.

El destino se lleva siempre su parte y no se retira hasta obtener lo que le corresponde.