Every time I took a long leave from home, I felt as if I were going to conquer the world. Or rather, take possession of what is my birthright, my inheritance.

Happiness is the intoxication produced by the moment of poise between a satisfactory past and an immediate future, rich with promise.

I am convinced that to live is to travel towards the world's end.

The usual channels of university studies or secretarial work did not appeal to me. I cherished difficult dreams through confidence in myself.

You can feel as brave as Columbus starting for the unknown the first time you enter a Chinese lane full of boys laughing at you, or when you risk climbing down in a Tibetan pub for a meal of rotten meat.

Certain travelers give the impression that they keep moving because only then do they feel fully alive.

I had to live in the desert before I could understand the full value of grass in a green ditch.