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

Now more than ever do I realize that I will never be content with a sedentary life, that I will always be haunted by thoughts of a sun-drenched elsewhere.

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

I will always be haunted by thoughts of a sun-drenched elsewhere.

The farther behind I leave the past, the closer I am to forging my own character.

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

For now it seems that by advancing into unknown territories, I entered into my life