It seemed to me an odd view to take – rather as if one should protest that one didn’t LIKE the idea of dying or being born. I preferred the notion of finding out first...

The meaning of life is not celebrating your birth, it is celebrating your work.

Imagine the state of one’s mind if they were to recall its details. All those months cocooned and then the onslaught of this ugly world. Lights and noise and strangeness. It’s no wonder we scream...