... old clothes, old friends, old books. One needs constants in a traveling life.

If something anticipated arrives too late it finds us numb, wrung out from waiting, and we feel - nothing at all. The best things arrive on time.

The best things arrive on time.

When we live with a memory we live with a corpse; the impact of the experience has changed us once but can never change us again.

It's compassion that makes gods of us.

Perhaps we clutch at life only when we have never lived or trusted it. Then death seems the last and greatest defeat, the end of something never felt.

People need dreams, there's as much nourishment in them as food.