Words are impotent to describe certain emotions.

When I look at something, it is certain that for an instant I am one with what I see.

I can see now that a concept or even a feeling makes no sense unless out of our substance we spin around it a web of references, of relationships, of values.

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

You do not travel if you are afraid of the unknown, you travel for the unknown, that reveals you with yourself.

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

Others are keen to see if natives other than us live better than we do, without heat in pipes, ice in boxes, sunshine in bulbs, music on disks, or images gliding over a pale screen.