So why do I talk about the benefits of failure？Simply because failure meant a stripping away of the inessential.I stopped pretending to myself that I was anything other than what I was，and began to direct all my energy into finishing the only work that mattered to me.Had I really succeeded at anything else，I might never have found the determination to succeed in the one arena I believed I truly belonged.I was set free，because my greatest fear had already been realized，and I was still alive，and I still had a daughter whom I adored，and I had an old typewriter and a big idea.And so rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life.
You might never fail on the scale I did，but some failure in life is inevitable.
It is impossible to live without failing at something，unless you live so cautiously that you might as well not have lived at all in which case，you fail by default.
Failure gave me an inner secur ity t h at I h a d never at t a i ne d by p a ssi n g examinations.Failure taught me thingsabout myself that I could have learned no other way.I discovered that I had a strong will，and more discipline than I had suspected；I also found out that I had friends whose value was truly above rubies.
T he knowledge that you have emerged wiser and stronger from setbacks means that you are，ever after，secure in your ability to survive.You will never truly know yourself，or the strength of your relationships，until both have been tested by adversity.Such knowledge is a true gift，for all that it is painfully won，and it has been worth more to me than any qualification I ever earned.
Given a time machine or a Time Turner，I would tell my 21-year-old self that personal happiness lies in knowing that life is not a check-list of acquisition or achievement.Your qualifications，your CV，are not your life，though you will meet many people of my age and older who confuse the two.Life is difficult，and complicated，and beyond anyone"s total control，and the humility to know that will enable you to survive its vicissitudes.
You might think that I chose my second theme，the importance of imagination，because of the part it played in rebuilding my life，but that is not wholly so.Though I will defend the value of bedtime stories to my last gasp，I have learned to value imagination in a much broader sense.
I m a g i n at ion is not on ly t he u n iq uely human capacity to envision that which is not，and therefore the fount of all inventiona nd i n novat ion .I n it s a rg ua bly mo st transformative and revelatory capacity，it is the power that enables us to empathize with humans whose experiences we have never shared.
One of the greatest formative experiences of my life preceded Harry Potter，though itinformed much of what I subsequently wrote in those books.This revelation came in the form of one of my earliest day jobs.Though I was sloping off to write stories during my lunch hours，I paid the rent in my early 20s by working in the research department at Amnesty International"s headquarters in London.
There in my little office I read hastily scribbled letters smuggled out of totalitarian regimes by men and women who were risking imprisonment to inform the outside world of what was happening to them.I saw photographs of those who had disappeared without trace，sent to Amnesty by their desperate families and friends.I read the testimony of torture victims and saw pictures of their injuries.I opened handwritten，eye-witness accounts of summary trials and executions，of kidnappings and rapes.
Many of my co-workers were ex-political prisoners，people who had been displaced from their homes，or fled into exile，because they had the temerity to think independently of their government.Visitors to our office included those who had come to give information，or to try and find out what had happened to those they had been forced to leave behind.
I shall never forget the African torture victim，a young man no older than I was at the time，who had become mentally ill after all he had endured in his homeland.He trembleduncontrollably as he spoke into a video c a m er a a b o ut t he b r ut a l it y i n f l ict e dupon him.He was a foot ta ller than I was，and seemed as fragile as a child.I was given the job of escorting him to the Underground Station afterward，and this man whose life had been shattered by cruelty took my hand with exquisite courtesy，and wished me future happiness.
And as long as I live I shall remember walking along an empty corridor and suddenly hearing，from behind a closed door，a scream of pain and horror such as I have never heard since.The door opened，and the researcher poked out her head and told me to run and make a hot drink for the young man sitting with her.She had just given him the news that in retaliation for his own outspokenness against his country"s regime，his mother had been seized and executed.
Every day of my working week in my early 20s I was reminded how incredibly fortunate I was，to live in a country with a democratically elected government，where legal representation and a public trial were the rights of everyone.
Ever y day，I saw more evidence about the evils humankind will inflict on their fellow humans，to gain or maintain power.I began to have nightmares，literal nightmares，about some of the things I saw，heard and read.
And yet I also learned more about human goodness at Amnesty International than I had ever known before.
Amnesty mobilizes thousands of people who have never been tortured or imprisoned for their beliefs to act on behalf of those who have.The powerof human empathy，leading to collective action，saves lives，and frees prisoners.Ordinary people，whose personal well-being and security are assured，join together in huge numbers to save people they do not know，and will never meet.My small participation in that process was one of the most humbling and inspiring experiences of my life.
