The task of genius  is to keep the miracle alive,  to live always in the miracle,  to make the miracle more and more miraculous,  to swear allegiance to nothing,  but live only miraculously,  think only miraculously,  die miraculously.

Zato snovi mogu biti tako opasni:oni tinjaju poput prigušene vatre,a ponekad se vatra rasplamsa i potpuno nas proguta.

This is why I should have had a son of my own, thought Ender. To lean on me when he was small, and then for me to lean on when I’m old.

Finding this potential in my own mind, I can suspect it in others, but I will never know, for no one ever tells.

Written By John Steinbeck

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