Anything was better than to be loved for one's things.

I slept in black tents, blue tents, skin tents, yurts of felt and windbreaks of thorns. One night, caught in a sandstorm in the Western Sahara, I understood Muhammed's dictum, 'A journey is a fragment of Hell.'

Walking is a virtue, tourism is a deadly sin.

And when you look along the way we've come, there are spirals of vultures wheeling.

Even today, when an Aboriginal mother notices the first stirrings of speech in her child, she lets it handle the "things" of that particular country: leaves, fruit, insects and so forth. "We give our children guns and computer games," Wendy said. "They gave their children the land."

I never liked Jules Verne, believing that the real was always more fantastic than the fantastical.

Man's real home is not a house, but the Road, and that life itself is a journey to be walked on foot.