The More I Study Religions The More

Travellers, Like Poets, Are Mostly An Angry Race: By Falling Into A Daily Fit Of Passion, I Proved To The Governor And His Son, Who Were Profuse In Their Attentions, That I Was In Earnest.

Home Is Where The Books Are

Indeed He Knows Not How To Know Who Knows Not Also How To Un-know.

The Men Were Wild As Ourang-outans, And The Women Fit Only To Flog Cattle.

Of The Gladdest Moments In Human Life, Methinks, Is The Departure Upon A Distant Journey Into Unknown Lands. Shaking Off With One Mighty Effort The Fetters Of Habit, The Leaden Weight Of Routine, The Cloak Of Many Cares And The Slavery Of Civilization, Man Feels Once More Happy.