“So when you are returning to the journey, you put yourself in the condition to enjoy things, to understand them, to use them with purity and with a gusto that your companion would have not even imagined as possible. In fact, your friend is obliged to call happiness an instinct that burns the present moment. He needs to continually multiply it so that it continues to burn. However, you don’t have the impression that things are burning. A moment after another, a day after another—a rainy day and then sunny the next day—you understand that you are building your journey to your destiny. You build and the other burns. At night, if you look at your day, your friend remains with a handful of ashes. You, however, can look back at the end of the day and say, ‘I made a mistake here and there, but I am walking. Even when everything went wrong, what dominates me is the will to walk. Help me, Lord, to be better tomorrow than today.’ You build a journey, and your friend doesn’t. Rather, he destroys. And he will destroy everything that he touches, especially people. He will not love anyone, but will only look to exploit.”