Travel, which is like a greater and a graver science, brings us back to ourselves.
Those who weep for the happy periods which they encounter in history acknowledge what they want; not the alleviation but the silencing of misery.
There is no shame in preferring happiness.
Why must one love rarely to love well?
I am too far away from what I love and my distance is without remedy.
Conscious of not being able to separate myself from my time, I have decided to become part of it.