I was fortunate in that I attended university in Canada in the early 1970s when you could take a true liberal arts degree with no programmes, majors or minors.

For every pleasure, there must be a sacrifice.

Those who rise first are morally superior. It's a universal law.

All my books reflect travel adventures of some kind, and all have a soul: a spiritual or mystical underpinning.

Life is a journey through a foreign land.

Life isn't as magical here, and you're not the only one who feels like you don't belong, or that it's better somewhere else. But there ARE things worth living for. And the best part is you never know what's going to happen next.

Where do we record the passing of wildlife? Who mourns the silent deaths of the small?