Traveling and confession (creation being the highest, most exact form of confession) have been my two greatest joys in life.

To wander over the earth; to see and never have my fill of seeing — new land and seas and men and ideas; to see it all as though for the first and the last time, with a long lingering gaze; and then to close my eyelids and feel the riches crystallizing inside me, calmly or tempestuously as they will, until Time has distilled them through its fine sieve into the quintessence of all my joys and all my griefs. This alchemy of the heart is, I believe, a great delight, worthy of Man.

For in this way, we not only come to know ourselves. Far, far more important, we are able to transcend our own insanely proud egos; plunging them and tempering them in the tormented itinerant army of Man.