Just As The Setting Sun Turned The

And If Someone Felt That His Life Had Been An Utter Failure, And That He Himself Was Only One Among Millions Of Wholly Unimportant People Who Could Be Replaced As Easily As Broken Windowpanes, He Would Go And Pour Out His Heart To Momo. And, Even As He Spoke, He Would Come To Realize By Some Mysterious Means That He Was Absolutely Wrong: That There Was Only One Person Like Himself In The Whole World, And That, Consequently, He Mattered To The World In His Own Particular Way. Such Was Momo's Talent For Listening.

Bastian Had Climbed A Dune Of Purplish-red Sand And All Around Him He Saw Nothing But Hill After Hill Of Every Imaginable Color. Each Hill Revealed A Shade Or Tint That Occured In No Other. The Nearest Was Cobalt Blue, Another Was Saffron Yellow, Then Came Crimson Red, Then Indigo, Apple Green, Sky Blue, Orange, Peach, Mauve, Turquoise Blue, Lilac, Moss Green, Ruby Red, Burnt Umber, Indian Yellow, Vermillion, Lapis Lazuli, And So On From Horizon To Horizon. And Between The Hill, Separating Color From Color, Flowed Streams Of Gold And Silver Sand.

You Must Let What Happens Happen. Everything Must Be Equal In Your Eyes, Good And Evil, Beautiful And Ugly, Foolish And Wise.

At Certain Junctures In The Course Of Existence, Unique Moments Occur When Everyone And Everything, Even The Most Distant Stars, Combine To Bring About Something That Could Not Have Happened Before And Will Never Happen Again. Few People Know How To Take Advantage Of These Critical Moments, Unfortunately, And They Often Pass Unnoticed. When Someone Does Recognize Them, However, Great Things Happen In The World.

To Be Wise Was To Be Above Joy And Sorrow, Fear And Pity, Ambition And Humiliation. It Was To Hate Nothing And To Love Nothing, And Above All To Be Utterly Indifferent To The Love And Hate Of Others.