But you must stop playing among his ghosts -- it's stupid and dangerous and completely pointless. He's trying to lay them to rest here, not stir them up, and you seem eager to drag out all the sad old bones of his history and make them dance again. It's not nice, and it's not fair.

Nothing I did contributed to me having cancer, so I can&#39;t sit back and say, &#39;Oh why me.&#39; Why not me? Why does tragedy always have to hit someone else?

Are you to be an individual, a trespasser in territory none else has had the wit or nerve to explore, or just another troublesome mosquito to be swatted by the authorities?

Your heart is still capable of showing you where the treasure is.

Written By Paulo Coelho

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