Everyone Is Isolated From Everyone Else. The

Illness Reduces Man To His Basic State: A Cloaca In Which The Chemical Processes Continue. The Meaningless Hegemony Of The Involuntary.

Whereas The Tourist Generally Hurries Back Home At The End Of A Few Weeks Or Months, The Traveler Belonging No More To One Place Than To The Next, Moves Slowly Over Periods Of Years, From One Part Of The Earth To Another. Indeed, He Would Have Found It Difficult To Tell, Among The Many Places He Had Lived, Precisely Where It Was He Had Felt Most At Home.

It's Unnecessary And Destructive To Think Of Oneself At All. People Ask Me, 'what Do You Think Of Yourself As?' My Answer Is, 'nothing.

Everyone Is Isolated From Everyone Else. The Concept Of Society Is Like A Cushion To Protect Us From The Knowledge Of That Isolation. A Fiction That Serves As An Anesthetic.

Since The World Began Has Any Man Ever Been Able To Know What Would Happen Tomorrow? The World Of Men Is Today. I'm Asking You To Open Your Heart Today. Tomorrow Belongs To Allah.