If you go away on location for three months and your wife stays at home you've made a whole new load of friends and she's made a whole new load of friends and you get home and you're kind of strangers.

Oh my ways are strange ways and new ways and old ways And deep ways and steep ways and high ways and low I'm at home and at ease on a track that I know not And restless and lost on a road that I know.

Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough and more. It turns denial into acceptance chaos to order confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast a house into a home a stranger into a friend.

A strange thing is memory and hope one looks backward and the other forward one is of today the other of tomorrow. Memory is history recorded in our brain memory is a painter it paints pictures of the past and of the day.

Strangers are exciting their mystery never ends. But there's nothing like looking at your own history in the faces of your friends.

Rome - the city of visible history where the past of a whole hemisphere seems moving in funeral procession with strange ancestral images and trophies gathered from afar.

I have health. I have a wonderful support system. I have the admiration of millions of strangers which I do not underestimate.

I can only point out a curious fact. Year after year the Nobel Awards bring a moment of happiness not only to the recipients not only to colleagues and friends of the recipients but even to strangers.

Existence is a strange bargain. Life owes us little we owe it everything. The only true happiness comes from squandering ourselves for a purpose.

Happiness grows at our own firesides and is not to be picked in strangers' gardens.