Who Needs a Dream? Who Needs Ambition?

Anatoly listened, the story of the snow storm making him smile. He could imagine her excitement very well - it was surely just like his children's glee at the first proper snowfall. He'd hadn't nearly been home enough to enjoy with them the way he should have, but the moments he did have was very precious to him.

As for the island trickery, well, what was there to say? He would never understand why it did the things it did, not even if he lived forever. "Sometimes, I think that it's actually alive and likes to make us suffer for its amusement. It makes as much sense as any other explanation I've heard."