““I could never be sure whether he would be there when I arrived. On my way through the forest I used to pass a large granite block where I would stop, draw my breath and close my fists with my thumbs inside, then close my eyes and whisper: 'Please, please, please let him be there today,' before continuing. If he wasn't, I felt it was because I had done wrong. That somehow I had to earn the right to such pleasure.””
