Those who fought know a secret about themselves, and it is not very nice.

The simple is carefully shunned by those who labour to seem what they would be.

Anybody who notices unpleasant facts in the have-a-nice-day world we live in is going to be designated a curmudgeon.

If I didn't have writing, I'd be running down the street hurling grenades in people's faces.

Travel sharpens the senses. Abroad one feels, sees and hears things in an abnormal way.

Anyone telling about his travels must be a liar, . . . for if a traveler doesn't visit his narrative with the spirit and techniques of fiction, no one will want to hear it.

All the pathos and irony of leaving one’s youth behind is thus implicit in every joyous moment of travel