One Of The Troubles Is This: The

Grief Seems At First To Destroy Not Just All Patterns, But Also To Destroy A Belief That A Pattern Exists.

In Life, Every Ending Is Just The Start Of Another Story.

He Didn’t Really Like Travel, Of Course. He Liked The Idea Of Travel, And The Memory Of Travel, But Not Travel Itself.

Later On In Life, You Expect A Bit Of Rest, Don't You? You Think You Deserve It. I Did, Anyway. But Then You Begin To Understand That The Reward Of Merit Is Not Life's Business.

There Is A German Word, Sehnsucht, Which Has No English Equivalent; It Means 'the Longing For Something'. It Has Romantic And Mystical Connotations; C.s. Lewis Defined It As The 'inconsolable Longing' In The Human Heart For 'we Know Not What'. It Seems Rather German To Be Able To Specify The Unspecifiable. The Longing For Something - Or, In Our Case, For Someone.