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

I refuse to imprison our acts in the rigid mould of sentences.

One travels to escape from it all, but that is the great illusion: It cannot be done, since one travels with one's mind.

We must develop a deeper interest and greater understanding of the people we meet here or abroad. Like us, they are passengers on board that mysterious ship called life.

One travels to run away from routine, that dreadful routine that kills all imagination and all our capacity for enthusiasm.

The wideness of the horizon has to be inside us, cannot be anywhere but inside us, otherwise what we speak about is geographic distances.

Travel can also be the spirit of adventure somewhat tamed, for those who desire to do something they are a bit afraid of.