I travel because I like to move from place to place, I enjoy the sense of freedom it gives me, it pleases me to be rid of ties, responsibilities, duties, I like the unknown; I meet odd people who amuse me for a moment and sometimes suggest a theme for a composition; I am often tired of myself and I have a notion that by travel I can add to my personality and so change myself a little.  I do not bring back from the journey quite the same self that I took

I can only guess that it made the world he went back to…strangely without meaning.  Though he lived in it, though he even enjoyed it, it remained utterly remote.  I think it had lost sense for him.  In his heart was the reflection of a lovely dream that he could never quite recall.

It needs a good deal of philosophy not to be mortified by the thought of persons who have voluntarily abandoned everything that for the most of us makes life worth living and are devoid of envy of what they have missed.  I have never made up my mind whether they are fools or wise men. 

I was a stray acquaintance whom he had never seem before and would never see again, a wandered for a moment through his monotonous life, and some starved impulse left him to lay bare his soul.  I have in this way learned more about men in a night than I could if I had known them for 10 years.  If you are interested in human nature, it is one of the greatest pleasures of travel.