There Is Something Indecent In Words .

Will Power Is Only The Tensile Strength Of One's Own Disposition. One Cannot Increase It By A Single Ounce.

Traveling Is A Brutality. It Forces You To Trust Strangers And To Lose Sight Of All That Familiar Comfort Of Home And Friends. You Are Constantly Off Balance. Nothing Is Yours Except The Essential Things: Air, Sleep, Dreams, Sea, The Sky - All Things Tending Towards The Eternal Or What We Imagine Of It.

We Care So Little Of Other People Than Even Christianity Urges Us To Do Good For The Love Of God.

We Do Not Free Ourselves From Something By Avoiding It, But Only By Living Though It.

It Is Not The Actual Enjoyment Of Pleasure That We Desire. What We Want Is To Test The Futility Of That Pleasure, So As To Be No Longer Obsessed By It.