I Refuse To Imprison Our Acts In

One Travels To Escape From It All, But That Is The Great Illusion: It Cannot Be Done, Since One Travels With One's Mind.

I Had To Live In The Desert Before I Could Understand The Full Value Of Grass In A Green Ditch.

The True Traveller Is The One Urged To Move About For Physical, Aesthetic, Intellectual As Well As Spiritual Reasons.

I Gained Direct Knowledge Of The Life Of The Poor In Big Towns: I Have Lived The Narrowing Mechanism Of Its Conditioning And Feared It.

I Can See Now That A Concept Or Even A Feeling Makes No Sense Unless Out Of Our Substance We Spin Around It A Web Of References, Of Relationships, Of Values.