One of the main points about travelling is to develop in us a feeling of solidarity, of that oneness without which no better world is possible.

One travels so as to learn once more how to marvel at life in the way a child does. And blessed be the poet, the artist who knows how to keep alive his sense of wonder.

I am sure that instinctively we wish to be everything, to possess it-why cut the rose or marry the man, otherwise?

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.

It is always our own self that we find at the end of the journey. The sooner we face that self, the better.

Words are impotent to describe certain emotions.

The true traveller is the one urged to move about for physical, aesthetic, intellectual as well as spiritual reasons.