She Was Like A Butterfly,

I Borrowed His Brightness And Used It To See My Way, And Then Gradually, From The Habit Of Looking At The World As He Illuminated It, The Light In My Own Mind Rekindled.

We Are Not The Only Animal That Mourns; Apes Do, And Elephants, And Dogs. Yet We Are The Only One That Tortures.

I Knew I Was Going To Be A Journalist When I Was Eight Years Old And I Saw The Printing Presses Rolling At The Sydney Newspaper Where My Dad Worked As A Proofreader.

And At This Moment In History, Our Core Value Happens To Be The Raw, Aching Truth Of The Human Predicament. It May Also Be The Only Belief That Can Save Us As A Species. A Species That Will Continue To Find Comfort And Delight In The Companionship Of Animals, The Miracle Of Birds, The Colours Of The Corals And The Majesty Of The Forests. We Are In It Together, On This Blue Spinning Marble In The Cold And Silent Void. And We Must Act On That Belief, If We Are Going To Be Able To Continue To Live A Good Life Here, In This Beautiful And Fragile Country, On This Lovely Planet, Our Only Home.

Both My Mum And Dad Were Great Readers, And We Would Go Every Saturday Morning To The Library, And My Sister And I Had A Library Card When We Could Pass Off Something As A Signature, And All Of Us Would Come With An Armful Of Books.