Travel is a state of mind. It has nothing to do with existence or the exotic. It is almost always an inner experience.

I think I understand passion. Love is something else.

Travel is at its most rewarding when it ceases to be about your reaching a destination and becomes indistinguishable from living your life

Writing is pretty crummy on the nerves.

Reading is also a journey. It's a process of discovery.

There is an intense but simple thrill in setting off in the morning on a mountain trail, knowing that everything you need is on your back. It is a confidence in having left the inessentials behind and of entering a world of natural beauty that has not been violated, where money has no value, and possessions are a dead weight. The person with the fewest possessions is the freest. Thoreau was right.

My house is a place I have spent many years improving to the point where I have no desire to leave it.