I have made a silent compact with myself not to change a line of what I write. I am not interested in perfecting my thoughts, nor my actions.

To the man whose senses are alive and alert there is not even the need to stir from one's threshold.

The enchanting, and sometimes terrifying, thing is that the world can be so many things to so many different souls. That it can be, and is, all these things at once and the same time.

One's destination is never a place but rather a new way of looking at things.

The full and joyful acceptance of the worst in oneself may be the only sure way of transforming it.

Topographically the country is magnificent - and terrifying. Why terrifying? Because nowhere else in the world is the divorce between man and nature so complete. Nowhere have I encountered such a dull, monotonous fabric of life as here in America. Here boredom reaches its peak.

Hell is probably quite similar to most Paris bistros ... a bit overheated, somewhat too crowded, and a little too noisy for my tastes. The waiters will surely treat you rudely and the cashiers will always add a few extra francs to your bill but ... and this is the important part ... the food will be marvelous.