He was well and truly, completely, utterly, unequivocally, irrevocably and irrefutably stuck. No matter how he thought about it, looked at it from another angle, rephrased it, kicked it around conceptually, or tried to divine it using easy to reach occult means, the stuckness remained. He mused that this must be how Faust felt right before entering into bargaining mode

At that very moment, a gust of wind blew open the window. Strangely enough, the only thing that seemed to have been moved significantly was a book, which lay open on a very peculiar page

Cautiously looking at the page, he slowly nodded to himself. Yes. This was indeed it. The thing that unstuck everything. “Is not chance and accident the bearer of the greatest gifts?” he thought, before proceeding