When we illuminate the road back to our ancestors, they have a way of reaching out, of manifesting themselves...sometimes even physically.

If Aphrodite chills at home in Cyprus for most of the year, then Fez must be the goddess’s playground

The past is buried deep within the ground in Rabat, although the ancient walls in the old city are still standing, painted in electrifying variations of royal blue that make the winding roads look like streamlets or shallow ocean water

Shakespeare had it right all along: Love will kill you in the end.

Paradise is a state of being, more than just the name of a suburb or a home.

This thing I am feeling, I’m almost certain, is the closest I’ll ever come to standing somewhere in between truth and reconciliation.

The things that come to us easily, our propensities, are carried on a deep subconscious level into our next life. There are no coincidences.