Exiled, Stefan Zweig wrote in The World of Yesterday (1942) ‘I have not felt that I entirely belong to myself any more…. I — the former cosmopolitan — keep feeling as if I had to offer special thanks for every breath of air that I take in a foreign country, thus depriving its own people of its benefit . . . On the day I lost my Austrian passport I discovered, at the age of fifty-eight, that when you lose your native land you are losing more than a patch of territory within set borders.’