For me, writing is not a search for explanations but a ramble in quest of what informs a place, a hunt for equivalents.

One of the sweet and expectable aspects of life afloat is the perpetual present moment one lives in and a perception that time is nothing more than the current, an eternal flowing back to the sea.

Adventure is putting one's ignorance into motion.

Instead of insight, maybe all a man gets is strength to wander for a while.

The open road is a beckoning, a strangeness, a place where a man can lose himself.

I can't say, over the miles, that I had learned what I had wanted to know because I hadn't known what I wanted to know. But I did learn what I didn't know I wanted to know.

What you've done becomes the judge of what you're going to do - especially in other people's minds. When you're traveling, you are what you are right there and then. People don't have your past to hold against you. No yesterdays on the road.