Pasternak died—and in spite of all the clamor of modernity, in spite of all the news about global events, the world became quiet and empty for a moment. This din drowned his voice, he took no part in these events. But, as he said in one of his poems, “a miracle is a miracle.” And the miracle was that his lone voice was heard even in his silence, that we felt his presence — in life, in the world, in history being made before our eyes — as a source of joy and hope . . . .