Time Is Life Itself, And Life Resides

You Don't Feel A Thing. There's Just Something Missing. And Once It Gets Hold Of You, Something More Is Missing Every Day. Soon There Won't Be Anything Left Of Us.

He Wanted To Be Loved For Being Just What He Was. In This Community Of Yskalnari There Was Harmony, But No Love. He No Longer Wanted To Be The Greatest, Strongest Or Cleverest. He Had Left All That Far Behind. He Longed To Be Loved Just As He Was, Good Or Bad, Handsome Or Ugly, Clever Or Stupid, With All His Faults - Or Possibly Because Of Them. But What Was He Actually? He No Longer Knew. So Much Have Been Given To Him In Fantastica, And Now, Among All These Gifts And Powers, He Could No Longer Find Himself.

All That Matters In Life," The Grey Man Went On, "is To Climb The Ladder Of Success, Amount To Something, Own Things. When A Person Climbs Higher Than The Rest, Amounts To More, Owns More Things, Everything Else Comes Automatically: Friendship, Love, Respect, Et Cetera..." "isn't There Anyone Who Loves You?" Momo Whispered.

Strange As It May Seem, Horror Loses Its Power To Frighten When Repeated Too Often.

If You Have Never Wept Bitter Tears Because A Wonderful Story Has Come To An End And You Must Take Your Leave Of The Characters With Whom You Have Shared So Many Adventures, Whom You Have Loved And Admired, For Whom You Have Hoped And Feared, And Without Whose Company Life Seems Empty And Meaningless. If Such Things Have Not Been Part Of Your Own Experience, You Probably Won't Understand What Bastian Did Next.