The 70s were a wonderful time to be young. I think most young people at that time were pushing the boundaries, asking all sorts of questions of society, of life and of themselves. They were very politicised. It was part of the air that we breathed.

It is better to proceed with one's duty in the service of others than wallow in the pain attachments bring

I believe that the subconscious always knows what is best. It is our conditional, vastly overrated rational mind which screws everything up.

To be free one needs constant and unrelenting vigilance over one's weaknesses. A vigilance which requires a moral energy most of us are incapable of manufacturing. We relax back into the moulds of habit. They are secure, they bind us and keep us contained at the expense of freedom. To break the moulds, to be heedless of the seductions of security is an impossible struggle, but one of the few that count. To be free is to learn, to test yourself constantly, to gamble.

The good Lord in his ultimate wisdom gave us three things to make life bearable: hope, jokes, and dogs, but the greatest of these was dogs.

Camel trips, as I suspected all along, and as I was about to have confirmed, do not being or end: they mere change form.

I just don't see myself as a travel writer. I can't. I don't.