One Never Took The Time To Savour

Whereas The Tourist Generally Hurries Back Home At The End Of A Few Weeks Or Months, The Traveler Belonging No More To One Place Than To The Next, Moves Slowly Over Periods Of Years, From One Part Of The Earth To Another. Indeed, He Would Have Found It Difficult To Tell, Among The Many Places He Had Lived, Precisely Where It Was He Had Felt Most At Home.

Every Second, Ten Stars Set Behind The Black Water In The West.

Everyone Is Isolated From Everyone Else. The Concept Of Society Is Like A Cushion To Protect Us From The Knowledge Of That Isolation. A Fiction That Serves As An Anesthetic.

There Is A Way To Master Silence Control Its Curves, Inhabit Its Dark Corners And Listen To The Hiss Of Time Outside

How Many More Times Will You Watch The Full Moon Rise? Perhaps Twenty. And Yet It All Seems Limitless.