Bokelskere.no

No matter what Mr Philosopher Next Door thought, there were things I knew for sure: That I had been loved, once, and had loved back. That a person could find hope in the way a weed grew. That the sum of a man's life was not where he wound up but in the details that brought him there.
That we made mistakes.
I closed my eyes, sick of the riddles, and to my surprise all I could see were dandelions - as if they had been painted on the fields of my imagination, a hundred thousand suns. And I remembered something else that makes us human: faith, the only weapon in our arsenal to battle doubt.