A howling wilderness does not howl: it is the imagination of the traveler that does the howling. -

What remains will be the love that moves the heavens, the stars, people, flowers, insects, the love that obliges us all to walk across the ice despite the danger, that fills us with joy and with fear, and gives meaning to everything.

If you are willing to turn a blind eye, then you must be prepared to allow injustice to pluck out the other one.

Swift has sailed into his rest; Savage indignation there Cannot lacerate his Breast. Imitate him if you dare, World-Besotted Traveler; he Served human liberty.

Written By Jonathan Swift

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