We are, all of us, poor wretches, and those who prefer not to understand this are even worse off than the rest of us.

To be alone is to be free, and freedom was the only happiness accessible to my nature.

But the vagrant owns the whole vast earth that ends only at the nonexistent horizon, and his empire is an intangible one, for his domination and enjoyment of it are things of the spirit.

A nomad I was even when I was very small and would stare at the road, that white spellbinding road headed straight for the unknown ... a nomad I will remain for life, in love with distant and uncharted places.

The way I see it, there is no greater spiritual beauty than fanaticism, of a sort so sincere it can only end in martyrdom.

I think it is impossible for human minds to think of Death as a final, irrevocable end to life.

Death does not frighten me, but dying obscurely and above all uselessly does.