You do not travel if you are afraid of the unknown, you travel for the unknown, that reveals you with yourself.
It is always our own self that we find at the end of the journey. The sooner we face that self, the better.
We must develop a deeper interest and greater understanding of the people we meet here or abroad. Like us, they are passengers on board that mysterious ship called life.
The wideness of the horizon has to be inside us, cannot be anywhere but inside us, otherwise what we speak about is geographic distances.
When I look at something, it is certain that for an instant I am one with what I see.
I had to live in the desert before I could understand the full value of grass in a green ditch.
When the heart speaks, its language is the same under all latitudes.
One travels to run away from routine, that dreadful routine that kills all imagination and all our capacity for enthusiasm.
One of the main points about travelling is to develop in us a feeling of solidarity, of that oneness without which no better world is possible.
One travels so as to learn once more how to marvel at life in the way a child does. And blessed be the poet, the artist who knows how to keep alive his sense of wonder.
The sooner we learn to be jointly responsible, the easier the sailing will be.
The benefits of the accomplished journey cannot be weighed in terms of perfect moments, but in terms of how this journey affects and changes our character.
I am convinced that to live is to travel towards the world's end.
There is only one valid species of voyage, which is walk towards the men.
The timelessness of a concept has to be woven into the running warp of dying time, vertical power has to be wedded to the horizontal earth.
That idea of escapism... these words could sum up my life.
You can feel as brave as Columbus starting for the unknown the first time you enter a Chinese lane full of boys laughing at you, or when you risk climbing down in a Tibetan pub for a meal of rotten meat.
Only when one is able to grasp wideness can one possess it.
I am sure that instinctively we wish to be everything, to possess it-why cut the rose or marry the man, otherwise?
Every time I took a long leave from home, I felt as if I were going to conquer the world. Or rather, take possession of what is my birthright, my inheritance.
Others are keen to see if natives other than us live better than we do, without heat in pipes, ice in boxes, sunshine in bulbs, music on disks, or images gliding over a pale screen.
We want to feel that this earth is all ours, like our parents' house when we were children.
One travels to escape from it all, but that is the great illusion: It cannot be done, since one travels with one's mind.
Travel can also be the spirit of adventure somewhat tamed, for those who desire to do something they are a bit afraid of.
Happiness is the intoxication produced by the moment of poise between a satisfactory past and an immediate future, rich with promise.
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