I was ashamed of myself when I realised life was a costume party and I attended with my real face - Franz Kafka

2 November. This morning, for the first time in a long time, the joy again of imagining a knife twisted in my heart.

I don't feel particularly proud of myself. But when I walk alone in the woods or lie in the meadows, all is well.

Eternal childhood. Life calls again. It is entirely conceivable that life’s splendour forever lies in wait about each one of us in all its fullness, but veiled from view, deep down, invisible, far off. It is there, though, not hostile, not reluctant, not deaf. If you summon it by the right word, by its right name, it will come. This is the essence of magic, which does not create but summons.