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.

Being the Novelist-in-Residence at a riad hotel in the kasbah of an Arabic North African city is a lot like trying to write one__ memoirs on shreds of napkins in a nuthouse.

_, Sunlight! The most precious gold to be found on Earth.

Paradise was always over there, a day__ sail away. But it__ a funny thing, escapism. You can go far and wide and you can keep moving on and on through places and years, but you never escape your own life. I, finally, knew where my life belonged. Home.

Respect both what you need to know and what you don't need to know. Respect mystery, for mystery is still needed to run the universe.

Sometimes we make being happy so difficult.And being thankful such a chore. Starting the day like a job we hate. Beginning it like swallowing ten tablespoons of devil made cough syrup.Because, somehow, along the way, we forget that being alive and healthy and happy are noble goals _ or just good ideas.And that the opposite of being alive is being dead. What a choice.