The Man Who Cannot Live

There Is Something Indecent In Words .

Traveling Is A Brutality. It Forces You To Trust Strangers And To Lose Sight Of All That Familiar Comfort Of Home And Friends

The Face Of The Night Will Be An Old Wound That Reopens Each Evening, Impassive And Living. The Distant Silence Will Ache Like A Soul, Mute, In The Dark. We'll Speak To The Night As It's Whispering Softly.

If You Wish To Travel Far And Fast, Travel Light. Take Off All Your Envies, Jealousies, Unforgiveness, Selfishness And Fears.

You Need A Village, If Only For The Pleasure Of Leaving It. A Village Means That You Are Not Alone, Knowing That In The People, The Trees, The Earth, There Is Something That Belongs To You, Waiting For You When You Are Not There.