Travel is glamorous only in retrospect.

An island is a fixed and finite piece of geography, and usually the whole place has been carved up and claimed.

The measure of civilized behavior is compassion.

Maine is a joy in the summer. But the soul of Maine is more apparent in the winter.

To a lot of Africans, seeing an animal is a something of a rarity. So it's a paradox of this sort of parallel life. A safari is an expensive experience and it's adjacent to a place where people are having a very tough time.

Extensive traveling induces a feeling of encapsulation, and travel, so broadening at first, contracts the mind.

I know there are writers who feel unhappy with domesticity and who even manufacture domestic turmoil in order to have something to write about. With me, though, the happier I feel, the better I write.