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[ID: You read something which you thought only happened to you, and you discover that it happened 100 years ago to Dostoyevsky. This is a very great liberation for the suffering, struggling person, who always thinks that he is alone. This is why art is important. Art would not be important if life were not important, and life is important. End ID]

[text: "I want to love more than death can harm. And I want to tell you this often: That despite being so human and so terrified, here, standing on this unfinished staircase to nowhere and everywhere, surrounded by the cold and starless night - we can live. And we will."]

[image text: a poem by Althea Davis; "And God, / please let the deer / on the highway / get some kind of heaven. / Something with tall soft grass / and sweet reunion. / Let the moths in porch lights / go some place / with a thousand suns, / that taste like sugar / and get swallowed whole. / May the mice / in oil and glue / have forever dry, warm fur / and full bellies. // If I am killed / for simply living, / let death be kinder / than man."]