My scars tell a story. They are a reminder of times when life tried to break me, but failed. They are markings of where the structure of my character was welded.

Expect more get less and feel sadness Or expect less get more and feel happiness

I look at life as an adventure. Each new chapter brings new opportunities.

The streak of bleach in my hair is as obvious as ever. Am I really going out in public like this? I push my hair backward and forward a few times - but I can't hide it. Maybe I could walk along with my hand carelessly positioned at my head, as if I'm thinking hard. I attempt a few casual, pensive poses in the mirror."Is your head all right?"I swivel round in shock to see Nathaniel at the open door, wearing a plaid shirt and jeans."Er...fine," I say, my hand still glued to my head. "I was just..."Oh, there's no point. I bring my hand down from my hair and Nathaniel regards the streak for a moment."It looks nice," he says. "Like a badger.""A badger?" I say, affronted. "I don't look like a badger.""Badgers are beautiful creatures," says Nathaniel with a shrug. "I'd rather look like a badger than a stoat.

They were even talking about buying a bodyguard, can you believe it? I mean, what on earth would I look like, turning up with a bodyguard? Actually, I'd look pretty cool and mysterious, wouldn't I? That might have been quite a good idea.

The greater a man's - or boy's - ignorance of the world, the more certain he is that he sits in the center of that world.