One Must Use The Weapons One Finds

A Subject To Which Few Intellectuals Ever Give A Thought Is The Right To Be A Vagrant, The Freedom To Wander. Yet Vagrancy Is A Deliverance, And Life On The Open Road Is The Essence Of Freedom. To Have The Courage To Smash The Chains With Which Modern Life Has Weighted Us (under The Pretext That It Was Offering Us More Liberty), Then To Take Up The Symbolic Stick And Bundle And Get Out.

I Feel Alone, Free, And Detached From Everything In The World, And I'm Happy.

One Must Never Look For Happiness: One Meets It By The Way.

We Are, All Of Us, Poor Wretches, And Those Who Prefer Not To Understand This Are Even Worse Off Than The Rest Of Us.

The Cowardly Belief That A Person Must Stay In One Place Is Too Reminiscent Of The Unquestioning Resignation Of Animals, Beasts Of Burden Stupefied By Servitude And Yet Always Willing To Accept The Slipping On Of The Harness. There Are Limits To Every Domain, And Laws To Govern Every Organized Power. But The Vagrant Owns The Whole Vast Earth That Ends Only At The Non-existent Horizon, And Her Empire Is An Intangible One, For Her Domination And Enjoyment Of It Are Things Of The Spirit.