Character: Michael Storz

The mountain is not a piano. Flying into the abyss, you will not be saved by improvisation.

And in general, I do not consider war an adventure. I’m ready to risk my life, but I’m not killing others.

I curl up like a flower at the slightest breeze.

Be grateful to fate for the gifts that the night brings.

Oh, this New York. You both love and hate him. Everything in him puts pressure on the psyche - both good and bad. An eternal race. Here you rush from the mountain, there your soul rushes somewhere. They practically don't read newspapers here. You forget that somewhere there is a war, people are killing each other in the jungle. In New York, you open the Times, and you feel uncomfortable that you are safe, well fed, sleeping in a soft bed; you start to feel ashamed of your well-being. On the street you look into the faces of people and ask yourself - how do they live with such a feeling?

This is how life works. I'm just doing my official duty. We are famous for objectivity, it is something that is expected of us. We are management consultants, not the Salvation Army. When we go to work, we leave our hearts at home.