Nostalgia in reverse, the longing for yet another strange land, grew especially strong in spring.

Human inertia makes the everyday environment, the furniture, as it were, appear to be a given.

Ils devraient toujours lire le livre à voix haute et claire, se tenir de toutes leurs forces exempts de toute mémoire de l'avoir jamais lu, dans la conviction de n'en connaître rien, et cela chaque soir.

Why are we so full of restraint? Why do we not give in all directions? Is it fear of losing ourselves? Until we do lose ourselves there is no hope of finding ourselves.

Written By Henry Miller

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