Night was falling. The noise from the cypresses had diminished. The candles of the sky were lit. Everything was milk... milk... indigo... and sparks. The river murmured secret mutterings in its sleep. That night, the child did not sleep... the whole night. He wrote his most bitter, his greatest fairy tale...
At dawn, he set off. He was... consoled. He had managed to count the stars all night... To count them all... slowly... one by one... All of them... And he found them correct.

"... Lountemis wrote as he breathed, he never stopped... Almost every one of his books is a testimony from his long odyssey in the realms of exile - inside and outside of Greece... Now, when children count the stars, they will know that what they are missing is in their library"
Stratis Tsirkas)

"Menelaos Lountemis was one of the finest of the generation of Greek writers who encapsulated in their work the thirst and struggles of our people for freedom, democracy, and humanism..."
Dido Sotiriou

"[...] Lountemis conveys the heartbreaking life experience he has gained in a beautiful but difficult world, the intoxication of life called passion: love, pain, freedom, success, destruction. [...] He lets his heart speak again about its passions, drawing from the independent reserve of his childhood experience"
Dimitris Rautopoulos