Where would you like to go, what would you really like to do with your life? See Istanbul, Port Said, Nairobi, Budapest. Write a book. Smoke too many cigarettes. Fall off a cliff but get caught in a tree halfway down. Get shot at a few times in a dark alley on a Morrocan midnight. Love a beautiful woman.

Thus through half-belief, we are often doomed to repeat that very past we should have learned from.

Half the fun of the travel is the esthetic of lostness.

I think the sun is a flower, That blooms for just one hour.

The merry-go-round was running, yes, but... It was running backward. The small calliope inside the carousel machinery rattle-snapped its nervous-stallion shivering drums, clashed its harvest-moon cymbals, toothed its castanets, and throatily choked and sobbed its reeds, whistles, and baroque flutes.

It is good to renew one's wonder, said the philosopher. Space travel has again made children of us all.

You don't have to burn books to destroy a culture. Just get people to stop reading them.