“When I want to write about myself, I get embarrassed, and my pen-holding hand gets paralysed. What should I write? Where and how I was born, what schools I attended, what I did and didn't do? After all, these are the random facts of life and hardly of interest to anyone else. I came into this world, became a human being, and one day I will have to leave. I try to relate to all people, and sometimes it’s exceedingly difficult: I often wonder if I am an stranger to this Earth. But my dreams at night are beautiful, and I have an unwavering faith in the Creator and in people. My biography, if I could, would indeed be a graphic: the silhouette of a slowly disappearing cloud.”