To Lie About A Far Country Is

We Are Accustomed To Use Our Eyes Only With The Memory Of What Other People Before Us Have Thought About The Object We Are Looking At.

A Man Forced To Spend His Life Without Ever Having The Right, Without Ever Finding The Time, To Shut Himself Up All Alone, No Matter Where, To Think, To Reflect, To Work, To Dream? Ah! My Dear Boy, A Key, The Key Of A Door Which One Can Lock This Is Happiness, Mark You, The Only Happiness!

Solitude Is Indeed Dangerous For A Working Intelligence. We Need To Have Around Us People Who Think And Speak. When We Are Alone For A Long Time We People The Void With Phantoms

Travel, Like Dreams, Is A Door That Opens From The Real World Into A World That Is Yet To Be Discovered

Words Dazzle And Deceive Because They Are Mimed By The Face. But Black Words On A White Page Are The Soul Laid Bare.