It's been a great adventure, everything I hoped for. But it's time to go home. I miss my family. I miss the Earth.

If I told you the tragedy parts, we'd all sit here and cry.

It's thrilling. There's birth and death and frustration and victory in raising horses. It's like a little microcosm of life is built into the short lives of these creatures.

We constantly learn new lessons up here. The experiences we gather will enable us to establish a long-term station on the moon and to go on to Mars.

I have friends who remember seeing fish hauled onto a boat's deck and beaten to death.

Now that the black experience isn't viewed as box-office death, people are catching up to untapped auteurs.

Death, torture and prison are part of daily life for the youth of Iran. They are not like us, my friends and I at their age; they are not scared. They are not what we were. They hold hands and scream: 'Don't be afraid! Don't be afraid! We are together!' They understand that no one will give them their rights; they must go get them.

In your teens and twenties, death doesn't exist. In your thirties, you glance down the road occasionally. But then in your forties, it becomes a full-time job looking the other way.